Fridays were always packed. Music boomed from speakers in every corner of the club, the multicolored lights surrounding the bar flashing in time with the annoyingly catchy pop song playing at full volume. Body after body filled the tight space, people practically crawling over each other to get to the bar. The dance floor was packed, every face illuminated by the flashing lights. Hanging above the bar was an even more flashy neon sign that read "Queerdom" in the colors of the rainbow.

Standing beneath said sign, currently making a cocktail for some shitfaced blonde, was the club bartender— Devon. His ginger red hair fell in his eyes, the loose curls framing his freckle dusted skin. His hair was tied back in a long ponytail that rested on his shoulder, falling behind him when he turned his head. Devon's green eyes, emphasized by the dark circles beneath him, darted across the bar, taking note of the club regulars and randos alike. Rolling his eyes at some gay couple making out in the corner, Devon finished making the cocktail."Sex On the Beach, right here."The redhead deadpanned, sliding the drink over to the blonde man that had been checking him out. The bartender didn't have to look to notice the eyes on his ass.

Rolling his eyes, Devon turned to the next person in line to order drinks."Next!"Looking down for a moment, he grabbed his notepad, using his teeth to uncap his pen. Spitting out the pen cap, Devon lazily drawled,"I'm here, I'm queer and I can get you anything from cider to beer."He sounded not even the least bit enthusiastic. Forcing a smile, he continued,"Marketing bullshit aside, whaddya want?"

Devon glanced up from his notepad, finally getting a good look at the person he was serving. Almost immediately, his eyes widened, the pen falling from Devon's hands.

"Oh, fuck."

Standing in front of the redhead was none other than his high school rival. It might've been over five years since they last saw each other, but still— Devon would recognize those eyes anywhere. Those goddamn enchanting eyes...

*Why the hell are they here? Devon thought to himself as unwelcome memories from his high school years came flooding back to him— the petty arguments, the not-so-subtle flirting, the bullying. Devon ghosting them after all the shit that happened with his father. He gulped. I... have a lot of explaining to do, Devon sighed at himself in his head. No, wait— you don't owe them shit. Yeah. They don't deserve to hear your life story. Just pretend like you didn't recognize them. Yeah— yeah, that'll totally work! Get your fucking shit together, Devon. Maybe they won't recognize you, either.

Clearing his throat, Devon managed to stutter out,"I-I said whaddya want, bitch?"

*Wow. Smooth, Devon, very smooth. Regretting his life decisions, Devon closed his eyes, wanting to crawl into a hole and hide. But no, instead, he just stood there— staring awkwardly. Why am I like this?