Barfly | OPEN
He was bored, and it was time. A divey club, always dark, plenty of beats, the seedier kind of place. It wasn’t just a bar but it was hardly a dance club like Nightshade or Le Mec, that gay place he loved. But La Cave had a great atmosphere to people watch and flirt with the bartender. He was always just a little too perfect for the imperfect space, but his polish helped keep it all in check. Nothing bad ever happened there, and they had a shockingly large selection of wine.
“Bonsoir mes chers,” he said as he entered, clad in his typical clothing, denim and leather in dark colors with a shockingly crisp pop of mauve for a shoe against the blacks and such. “Something red and cheap.”
He sat at the bar, having said that to the perfectly coifed bartender and his ironed shirt. Honestly, it was out of place in a surrealist way that always made him seem to fit even better than the regulars. But how could Ary resist a night at the bar? He’d just gotten paid after all.