Theea
Yla
At first, seeing someone leaning over the curly-haired man made of glitter had me leaning back, but I quickly realize how friendly he’s being.
I’m halfway into smiling atKoa, ready to say something smooth — or at least not entirely awkward—when someone throws his voice into the sky like it’s a flare, chanting like he’s summoning spirits (pun intended). He’s got the enthusiasm of someone already several drinks in or just naturally born for chaos. Maybe both. A tray materializes overhead like divine intervention, and before I can politely decline or plan an exit route, a shot glass is slid before me.
Calypso — I think thats her name — just… smiles at me. Like this is normal. Like I’m not holding my very first alcoholic drink in the middle of a glittering whirlwind of strangers who all seem infinitely cooler than me.
There’s no time to back out — the guy tangled in a bikini with a crooked wig lifts his drink high for a toast. I panic.
Then I pretend I’m not panicking and lift the glass like it’s just another task, another test I’m too stubborn to fail. I down the shot, and it’s worse than I expected. It hits the back of my throat like molten lightning, and I cough hard enough to make my eyes water. The back of my hand presses to my lips.
"Gods, is this what fun tastes like?"
Before I can properly wheeze, a much larger glass is set down by Calypso in front of me with a tropical little flourish — the other bartender made the drink, thank the gods. The Torchline Float, complete with extra pineapple and a hint of mercy. I take a long, deep gulp.
It’s good. Really good. Cool and sharp and sweet in a way that settles the burn from the shot and replaces it with something... warm. Pleasant. Heavy, even. Like heat blooming under the skin.
I lower the glass and finally, finally manage to catch my breath.
“Theea,” I say hoarsely, blinking at Koa. “Hi. That was my first drink. Like—ever. So if I end up face-down in the sand before midnight, kindly prop me up somewhere and pretend I’m stargazing?”
Then I catch sight of Sohalia behind the bar — not just passing through, but stepping in like she belongs there. My lips tug into a surprised little smile. She’s the one who offered me a place to stay, after all. The reason I’m not currently sleeping on a beach wrapped in my coat.
“Hey,” I say with a grin, relieved to see someone I know (since Flora did, in fact, disappear), “you gonna have a shot too?”
I’m halfway into smiling at
Calypso — I think thats her name — just… smiles at me. Like this is normal. Like I’m not holding my very first alcoholic drink in the middle of a glittering whirlwind of strangers who all seem infinitely cooler than me.
There’s no time to back out — the guy tangled in a bikini with a crooked wig lifts his drink high for a toast. I panic.
Then I pretend I’m not panicking and lift the glass like it’s just another task, another test I’m too stubborn to fail. I down the shot, and it’s worse than I expected. It hits the back of my throat like molten lightning, and I cough hard enough to make my eyes water. The back of my hand presses to my lips.
"Gods, is this what fun tastes like?"
Before I can properly wheeze, a much larger glass is set down by Calypso in front of me with a tropical little flourish — the other bartender made the drink, thank the gods. The Torchline Float, complete with extra pineapple and a hint of mercy. I take a long, deep gulp.
It’s good. Really good. Cool and sharp and sweet in a way that settles the burn from the shot and replaces it with something... warm. Pleasant. Heavy, even. Like heat blooming under the skin.
I lower the glass and finally, finally manage to catch my breath.
“Theea,” I say hoarsely, blinking at Koa. “Hi. That was my first drink. Like—ever. So if I end up face-down in the sand before midnight, kindly prop me up somewhere and pretend I’m stargazing?”
Then I catch sight of Sohalia behind the bar — not just passing through, but stepping in like she belongs there. My lips tug into a surprised little smile. She’s the one who offered me a place to stay, after all. The reason I’m not currently sleeping on a beach wrapped in my coat.
“Hey,” I say with a grin, relieved to see someone I know (since Flora did, in fact, disappear), “you gonna have a shot too?”
occupation: aspiring beam of light
