“The look?”
“End of a long week. You’re the kind of person who wants something good, but doesn’t want to think about it.”
I consider that, then nod. “Accurate.”
He sets the glass in front of me. “Kitchen’s moving fast tonight. You’ll be in and out.”
“Perfect.”
I take a sip, letting the wine settle as I glance around the room. Servers weave through tables with plates, the kind of controlled, choreographed madness that somehow works when everyone knows what they’re doing.
A song comes on overhead, something familiar, warm and easy. I tilt my head slightly, listening.
“I like this,” I say, more to myself than anything.
“Yeah?” The bartender glances up from where he’s lining up glasses and nods toward a small sign tucked near the edge of the bar. “We’ve got this new tech we’re trying out, it’s a shared playlist.” He points to a television over the bar where a queue of songs is displayed. “Patrons can add to it, so it’s user-generated ambiance.”
I follow his next gesture to the QR code displayed on the bar in front of me.
“Scan the code, toss something in. Just don’t ruin the vibe,” he adds with a grin.
I fight a laugh. “No pressure.”
“High pressure, actually,” he says. “Since they have to make a username, and could possibly be found out later on, people take it very seriously. No one wants their taste in music to be questioned.”
I glance back at my phone, already reaching for it.
“Good to know,” I murmur. “I’ll choose wisely.”
The music hums around me as I scan the code, the warmth of the wine settling in, the noise of the room fading just enough tofeel like I’ve carved out a small pocket of space for myself. Exactly what I wanted.
I set up a username, Jewelsy. A little on the nose, but the wine is making me feel like playing along. Why not?
“Let’s see what we’re working with here,” I murmur, scrolling through the list.
There’s range. Duran Duran. The Who. Queen. All layered in with Taylor Swift, Ed Sheeran, Sabrina Carpenter. It shouldn’t work, but somehow it does.
I add a song to the queue, and gleefully watch as it slides into the lineup on the app. A second later, the screen mounted above the bar updates, my username popping up among the others. Almost immediately, a small icon appears beside it.
Someone liked it. Already?
I glance up at the screen again, a quiet little thrill settling in my chest that feels entirely disproportionate to what just happened. I’ll take it.
“Nice choice,” the bartender says as he passes, like he’s been keeping an eye on things.
“Thank you,” I reply, a little more pleased than I probably should be.
I take another sip of wine, letting my gaze drift from the screen to the room around me.
Couples are at most of the tables. Leaning in. Laughing. Sharing fries off the same plate like it’s nothing.
I move slightly on the stool, resting my elbow on the bar. As much as I like working around people who are falling in love—and I do, I genuinely do—it has a way of highlighting things. Like putting a hi-vis jacket on my wounds would help ease me back into being.
There are days I feel really good about doing life on my own. Solid. Grounded. Completely fine with it.
And then there are days like this. Where I’m sitting here feeling oddly validated because a stranger liked the song Iadded to a playlist, and it’s… I exhale lightly. It’s not nothing. But it’s also not…this.
I glance over at a couple tucked into the corner, their heads bent together, talking like there isn’t anyone else in the room. Would I rather be sitting here having an actual conversation with someone?
