Chapter 2 — Purple Giraffe (Parties, Phones & Poor Decisions)
Ted Mosby believed in architecture and romance.
Barney Stinson believed in free drinks and schemes.
And Ivar Scherbatsky? He believed in the clean hum of a machine built right and sold for a price that didn't insult working people.
That last part came up on the second night Ted threw a party just to impress Robin.
(Yes, a second party. And there would be a third. Because Ted believed in persistence even more than embarrassment.)
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The First Party (aka Ted's Disaster #1)
The apartment was packed wall-to-wall with strangers Ted didn't know, because Robin hadn't shown up yet. Barney was already halfway into a pickup line involving the phrase "You look like you'd appreciate fiscal irresponsibility" when Ivar breezed in, cool as frost, Melissa Rauch again on his arm.
"Why is your apartment a zoo?" Ivar asked, scanning the crowd like a field commander. "And why does it smell like cheap nachos and fear?"
"Robin's supposed to come," Ted hissed, nearly spilling punch. "I'm… I'm creating opportunities."
"Opportunities or fires?" Melissa teased.
"Both," Lily muttered, rescuing a drunken guest from collapsing into the guacamole.
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Enter Northern Star Tech
Barney, already two whiskey sours deep, pointed at Ivar's pocket. "Show them, man. Show them the phone."
"I'm not demoing at a party," Ivar said, setting down a bottle of scotch he'd brought as a peace offering.
"Yes you are," Barney countered. "Because this… this is the future."
Marshall blinked. "Phone? You mean like—better than my Nokia?"
Ivar sighed, but pulled it out: a sleek slab of matte black, edges smooth, screen alive with light like it wanted to leap into your hand. No clunky buttons. No lag. Just pure responsiveness.
"Meet the Northern Star One," Ivar said. "First release from my company."
Ted gawked. "You… made a phone?"
"Yeah," Ivar said. "Cheaper than an iPhone. Stronger than a Galaxy. Battery lasts a week. Screen doesn't shatter when you sneeze."
Melissa chimed in: "He threw one off a Brooklyn rooftop for fun. It bounced."
"Affordable?" Marshall asked, skeptical.
"Retail: $299," Ivar said, shrugging. "Everyone deserves tech that doesn't suck."
Marshall and Lily's jaws dropped. Ted nearly choked on his drink. Barney whispered, "Canadian Batman."
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Robin Finally Shows
Halfway through Ivar's impromptu tech demo, Robin walked in, still in her work blazer. Ted nearly snapped his neck turning toward her. Ivar noticed but said nothing, slipping the phone back into his jacket and letting Ted sprint into action.
"Robin! Hey! Welcome! So glad you could—uh—look, chips!"
Robin smirked. "Smooth, Ted."
Ivar leaned toward Melissa. "Bet you twenty bucks he throws two more parties before he gets a real date."
Melissa laughed. "That's a scam. I've seen sitcom reruns. He'll need at least three."
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The Second Party (aka Ted's Disaster #2)
Because Robin left early.
And Ted—naturally—threw another party the next night.
This time, the gang teased him mercilessly. Barney declared it a "legendary marathon." Lily tried to set up a bingo card for Ted's awkward lines. And Ivar? He settled into the couch, casually setting up one of Northern Star's gaming laptops on the coffee table.
"You brought a laptop to a party?" Marshall asked.
"I brought two," Ivar said. "Northern Star Titan Pro. Affordable, fast, cooler than it looks."
He handed one over. "Here. Try Skyrim at max settings."
Marshall's eyes went wide, Lily immediately stole the mouse, and within minutes half the party was watching them slay dragons instead of listening to Ted ramble about architecture.
Robin showed up late again, smiled at the chaos, and told Ted she had to run because of an early morning segment.
Ted: crushed.
Ivar: amused.
Melissa: whispered, "Three parties. Definitely three."
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Chapter Closing Beat
At 3 a.m., when the last stragglers left, the apartment was a ruin of empty bottles and pizza crusts. Ted was pacing, muttering about destiny. Barney was asleep in the bathtub. Marshall and Lily were still arguing about who stole loot in Skyrim.
Ivar leaned on the balcony, looking out at New York's sleepless lights. Melissa wrapped herself in his jacket.
"Do you ever feel bad?" she asked. "Watching your sister's friend crash and burn while you… well, don't?"
Ivar tilted his head. "It's not about not crashing. It's about learning to enjoy the fire. He'll get there."
And below them, Ted Mosby was swearing to himself that tomorrow—definitely tomorrow—he'd tell Robin how he felt.