= Sarah POV =
Three weeks had passed since I moved into Heather's apartment, and life had settled into a manageable rhythm. It wasn't perfect, but the chaos that had engulfed me before felt like it had finally quieted down. Chris's brief stint in the café's Elite Chefs program had ended, and she returned to her hotel job full-time. Amber, much to Heather's relief, kept her distance. Not only had she stopped making advances, but she seemed to be avoiding Heather altogether.
There were still moments when it hurt to think about how things had ended with Chris. I couldn't deny how much she had meant to me—how much she still did—but the foundation of trust that once defined our friendship had crumbled. Without it, I was left questioning everything, including how I truly saw her.
At work, Ms. Jun seemed to shift focus entirely. Her flirtations disappeared along with Chris, replaced by an intense dedication to the job. With no one on Chris's level to fill the gap, the midnight shifts had become a revolving door of chef hopefuls auditioning for the spot she left behind.
Despite everything, Heather and I found a way to push forward. We cobbled together plans for this to do to get ourselves out there, making a list of the different queer singles nights, piecing together ideas from online forums, and suggestions from friends.
The idea was we wanted to go somewhere far enough from where we live so that we didn't "accidentally" run into Chris and Amber by any chance but in a relaxed enough environment such that we could mingle and have fun.
After several phone calls and brainstorming, the singles night at a particularly highly praised bar was chosen, and the date was set. We even treated ourselves to a shopping trip, picking out new outfits to celebrate the fresh start we hoped the night would bring.
The night of the event, I stood in front of the mirror, admiring my reflection. I'd opted for a lacy black long-sleeve top paired with a tight leather mini skirt, stockings, and black boots. My hair was tied up in a bun, with a few loose curls framing my face, and a cute little choker completed the corporate goth vibe. Heather, on the other hand, exuded cool sophistication in a tailored gray suit. Her long ginger hair was braided neatly down her back. If she weren't my boss and friend, I might have been tempted to ask her out myself.
"Well," Heather said, giving me a playful grin, "looks like we're ready. Shall we?"
I nodded, feeling a flicker of excitement as we headed out to her car.
The singles night was being held downtown at a small bar owned by one of Heather's old friends. Gail had turned her business school degree into a thriving venture: a cozy, unapologetically queer-friendly bar adorned with pride flags and eclectic décor.
We descended a narrow flight of stairs into the main area, where a crowd had already gathered. The room was warm and inviting, filled with the hum of conversation and the occasional burst of laughter. Tables and chairs were arranged around the edges, with a small dance floor glowing under dim, colorful lights.
"Heather!" Gail called, hurrying over to greet us. After a round of introductions, I excused myself, leaving the two old friends to catch up while I wandered through the room.
As I approached one of the tables to check out the drink menu, a lanky, cheerful girl with short hair and an easy smile stepped up.
"Hi," she said, "what's your drink of choice?"
Caught off guard, I stammered, "Oh, um, I don't know. This is my first time here."
She laughed and held up a card. "It's one of the icebreaker questions for the singles night. We're supposed to ask one to anyone we want to talk to."
I glanced at the table and noticed a pile of cards next to the menu. Curious, I picked one up and read the first question aloud.
"Do you like indoor or outdoor dates more?"
"Outdoor, definitely. I'm big into sports," she replied with a shrug and a grin.
As she spoke, my attention drifted to a group of people gathered near a sofa at the far end of the room. Something—or someone—caught my eye, a flicker of recognition, though I couldn't place it. Shaking the feeling, I turned back to the girl with an apologetic smile.
"Sorry, what was that?" I asked.
She chuckled. "I asked if you wanted to check out the 'star' over there. Everyone's buzzing about her. She keeps turning people down, saying she's waiting for the right person to notice her."
"Oh, no, I'm good here," I said quickly, introducing myself. "I'm Yoshida."
"Akira Yoko, but you can call me Yoko," she said with a grin. "So, about that drink?"
Before I could answer, a jingle played and then a voice boomed over the speakers. "Alright, folks, remember the rules! No talking to anyone for more than five minutes, or you're leaving with them tonight! Keep it moving!"
The crowd laughed and began to shuffle, people glancing around for their next conversation partner. I waved goodbye to Yoko and found myself swept into the rhythm of the night, answering question after question from strangers, and moving on after the jingle played, wanting to just go with the flow, and not set my sights on anyone immediately.
Despite the initial nerves, I began to enjoy myself. The conversations were light and easy, and for the first time in weeks, I felt a flicker of hope. Maybe this night wouldn't change everything, but it was a start.