⤬ bar

@kim jongin her heart seemingly thrummed gently but quickly against the confinements of her petite frame as the said patron flashed a smile at her, though that was ruined with an expression of abrupt epiphany and he, too, then recognized her. his voice only serves as a confirmation of his identity to her as she then parted her lips in purpose of responding, but for a moment, she paused. speechless was she. all he said was hey, yet she couldn't find it in herself to return the favor.

kim jongin in the flesh, asking her, yoo shiah, for a glass of whisky. if her past self were to reveal this scene to her, she wouldn't bet her life for it to happen. but alas, with his half sober self, she finally spoke. "hey you," was all that unveiled, at first. her hand etched to grasp onto a nearby rag, smearing it against the marbled counter top that divided the two companions as her gaze never left his. there was a plethora of inquiries that overflowed in her mind, but none volunteered to be asked. instead, she opted to just keep the conversation light. "it's nice to see a familiar face around here. surprised to see me? i never thought i'd end up as a bartender too."

@yoo shiah so what other souls were out this late? unfortunately the intoxication hindered his ability to craft a nuanced conclusion out of his cursory investigation, but the sample of his co-patrons at the bar boiled down to something along the lines of: the delinquent, heartbroken, lonely, or lost. but some just hammered into oblivion. minus the old lad harassing the bartender at the other end of the counter, he felt sorry for all of them. until he realized the rather sizable possibility of him appearing to be one of the pitiful crowd himself. "well ," he muttered under his breath. maybe he needed to find a new hobby or something; it wasn't his fault he craved something to take the edge off the exceptionally long, brutal shifts that came from time to time.

he's rescued from his own thoughts by the arrival of his drink -- last one, he swears. he takes the cup and brings it a little closer to himself. "thank you," he says, glancing up to thank the bartender with a slight, gracious smile. he takes a second longer than usual to process, but the smile quickly fades off his face when it clicks for him who exactly is standing in front him. he blinks once, wondering if his vision is blurred but it's not; if anything, he feels dead sober. he can't recall the last time he'd seen yoo shiah. certainly not after he ran off the moment after high school graduation, a one way ticket out of anything he associated with the shackles of his past. but maybe he should act less caught off guard. "oh wow. hey."

@kim jongin "that is officially the seventh time you've tried asking me out, i think you can expect my next answer," her tone laces with that of a tantalizing mischief mask, just as she pours the man before her another ounce of soju in his glass cup, though in actuality, she was rather made uncomfortable from their exchange. 'play along,' is what her manager would advise whenever yooa sent in complaints of customers that repeatedly hit on her either because she was the only female within the vicinity, or because she was the only female /voluntarily/ talking to these men due to her job. "you should head home soon, i can tell you're lightweight and that's your fifth glass of soju."

at another request added to her plate, nimble hands of hers etch towards the whisky bottles at her disposal, trailing a glass with a few cubes to accentuate the customer's order respectively so. "whisky soda," she calls out, presenting the order in front of a male, soon uplifting a brow at the familiarity that he exudes oddly so just from his appearance. the pit of the cup slides against the hardened counter with ease but alongside, she tenses whilst attempting to capture a glimpse of the man as his eyes avert off to others in the bar. "light on the.. ice." her voice lingers for just a second, umber irises of hers glinting in curiosity.

@yoo shiah there are stages to his drunkenness. first a buzz, then stimulation. then some confusion, muffled senses; it's somewhere around here when the alcohol doesn't start to taste all that well - and then it eventually tastes like nothing at all. eventually, he'll hit the sweet spot - clarity, coupled with a healthy dose of honesty; or as the romans used to say, the truth lies in the wine. for most others, it's shortly after this stage that they end up blacked out or regretfully hungover the next morning. lucky for jongin, he's had enough bottles of whisky and wine in his days that he gets to continue on with little physical repercussion. nevertheless, he tells himself just one more before calling it a night.

walking up to the bar, he says his order out loud - "whisky soda, light on the ice" - before taking a seat at the counter. he doesn't check if anyone was actually present to hear him, just assumes there is. his eyes are too occupied people watching. no, he's not checking anyone out despite the few female gazes he feels turning his way -- he claims he's mostly beyond that sort of reckless hedonism. but really. he's simply curious as to what other souls are still out this late.