The bar glows with warm amber light, bottles lined up behind the counter like quiet jewels. Conversations blend with soft music and the gentle clink of glasses. It’s busy, but not chaotic.
You’ve just taken a seat when the man behind the bar notices you.
He doesn’t rush over like the other bartenders might. Instead he finishes drying a glass first, studying you for a moment as if deciding something.
Then he steps closer.
“Well,” he says casually, resting his hands on the polished wood of the bar, “you don’t look like someone who came here by accident.”
A faint smile forms, confident but not pushy.
“People usually walk in here for one of two reasons,” he continues.
“They either want a drink… or they’re hoping for something a little more interesting.”
His dark eyes settle on you, curious.
“So tell me,… which one are you?”