There is a Happy Land
The bar is called the Closet and it exists beneath an arcade and pool hall. To enter the Closet one must walk around the back and down a flight of concrete stair, not a particularly secret place, more discreet than anything. The neon red sign above the stairwell is written in cursive and flickers and buzzes with age.
This is Sabian's first time coming to this place; finally reaching that wondrous age of 18, the world is now his oyster. The fox has gone for a toned-down sparkle-dog look, his fur having been dyed a hot pink colour and his points and socks have been lightened to a charcoal grey. A button down dress shirt in royal blue with ivory buttons and a pair of black slacks completes the look. He descends the stairs, nervous at what he will find, and pushes the door below open.
Entering into the confines of the bar, he is greeted by a small kiosk and coatroom manned by a little golden mouse with blond hair. Her badge says her name is Cassandra and she asks for his I.D. Sabian hands it to her and nervously waits, she eyes him over her glasses, passes the card back and says, “Stay out of trouble.”
Around the corner was the bar proper, furnished with black leather booths, shining black tables, everything lit in reds and pinks, green specks swirling from the mirror ball. To the left is the counter and the drinks, this is manned by a really short rabbit, who stands upon a step-stool so that he can look the customers in the eyes. Other than the bartender there really were only a few other customers in the bar: Another fox in the far corner, older than Sabian, skinny and with jet black fur. A squirrel stands beside a large tiger, the two laughing outside the small hallway that leads to the washrooms in the back.
Sabian hopped upon a stool at the bar and ordered a beer from the small rabbit, who grinned and said, “New here, aye? Glad to have you.” The rabbit's badge says he is called Fivot, light tan fur, bright brown eyes. He handles the taps, pours a beer for the young fox and hands it over to him with a grin and a playful wink, which made Sabian blush.
“Thanks,” Sabian smiled and nursed the drink he was handed. Turning on the stool he looks around, nods to himself and listens to the ambient music that is flowing in from the speakers above. He feels good, he feels that he may belong.
Details
Published:
8 years ago
30 Mar 2016 23:53 CEST
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