Chapter 5 — Okay Awesome (VIP Chaos & Credit Cards)
Ted Mosby believed clubs were where romance went to die in strobe lights.
Barney Stinson believed clubs were holy ground, where legends sprouted on bottle service tables.
And Ivar Scherbatsky? He believed clubs were fine—as long as you had an exit strategy, a private booth, and enough money to turn bouncers into butlers.
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At MacLaren's
Barney slapped down a glossy flyer. "Tonight. We conquer Okay. It's the hottest new club in Manhattan. There's a guest list. There's a line. There's a dream."
Ted squinted. "The name of the club is… Okay?"
"It's ironic," Barney said. "Like if you named a strip club Decent."
Marshall groaned. "We can't go to a club. Lily has debt. I have… law school. We're adults."
Lily jabbed him with her straw. "Don't tell everyone about my debt!"
"Credit cards," Marshall whispered.
Everyone stared.
Ivar tilted his glass. "How bad?"
Lily crossed her arms. "None of your business, Mr. Billionaire."
"Fair," Ivar said. Then, casually: "Want me to pay them off?"
Lily's mouth dropped. "What?"
"I could clear your balance right now. Won't even feel it. Like buying gum."
Marshall looked torn between gratitude and pride. "We can't accept that. We're grown-ups."
"You live in a shoebox apartment where the shower curtain rod doubles as a coat rack," Ivar said. "Let me help."
"No!" Lily snapped. "It's our mess. We'll fix it."
Ivar studied her a beat, then nodded. "Respect. But if the interest rates get ugly, my offer stands."
Barney waved his arms. "HELLO?! Focus. Tonight. Club. Destiny. Ted, suit up. Ivar, bring your wallet. Marshall, leave your credit cards at home before Lily sells your kidneys."
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At the Club
The line outside Okay stretched around the block. Ted groaned. "We'll never get in."
Ivar stepped forward, whispered something to the bouncer, and suddenly the velvet rope opened.
"What did you say?" Ted asked, stunned.
Ivar shrugged. "That my company owns the building. Which is true."
Inside, Okay was chaos incarnate: strobes, bass, fog machines pumping out artificial thunderstorms. Barney was in ecstasy, sliding across the dance floor like a shark in a suit.
Ivar? He dragged Ted into the VIP lounge where champagne already waited.
"See?" Ivar said. "You don't need to sweat for romance. You need altitude."
Ted muttered, "Altitude doesn't help if you're still invisible."
"Then stop acting like fog," Ivar said, sipping champagne.
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Marshall & Lily
Meanwhile, Marshall and Lily tried to blend in on the dance floor. Lily's shoes hurt. Marshall's tie was too tight. They lasted seven minutes before collapsing into chairs.
"This is too loud," Lily shouted.
"This is too young," Marshall corrected.
Lily glanced up at the glowing VIP balcony where Ivar and Barney held court like minor deities. "Your friend's brother offered to pay off my debts tonight. And here we are, wasting our hearing."
Marshall squeezed her hand. "We'll be fine. We'll fix it together."
She kissed him. "I know. But I'm keeping him on speed dial, just in case."
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Ted, the Wallflower
Back upstairs, Ted tried to chat up a woman by yelling about architecture over the bass. She smiled politely, then drifted away.
"See?" Ted groaned. "I don't fit here."
Barney spun past, tie undone, shouting, "THIS PLACE IS A SANCTUARY!" before vanishing into the crowd.
Ivar leaned against the railing. "You're not a wolf, Ted. You're a shepherd. You don't thrive in noise. You thrive in moments."
Ted frowned. "So… I should just give up?"
"No," Ivar said, green eyes sharp. "I'm saying stop hunting in the wrong forest."
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Closing Beat
By 3 a.m., Marshall and Lily had fled home, Robin was asleep on her desk after covering a wine-tasting, Barney was still somewhere in the fog, and Ted trudged out of the club convinced he'd wasted another night.
Ivar followed, hands in his pockets, not a hair out of place.
"You okay?" he asked.
"No," Ted admitted.
"Good," Ivar said. "You'll get tired of being miserable eventually. Then you'll change."
Ted shot him a look. "You're like a fortune cookie if fortune cookies punched you in the ego."
Ivar smiled. "Exactly."
And behind them, Okay pulsed on, a temple of noise. But for Ted Mosby, the silence of doubt was louder.