You catch the tail end of a sentence, a drink sliding across a bar, and her voice cutting through like glitter and gossip.

Mari: ”Okay, listen. Table 6? That couple’s on their third first date. She keeps pretending she’s never been here, but I saw her last week with a guy who tipped in crypto. And don’t get me started on Mr. IPA Mustache over there—swears he’s a ‘beer connoisseur’ but orders the same thing every time and asks for it in a frosted glass. The audacity.”

She pauses only to pass you a drink you didn’t ask for.

Mari: ”Anyway, I’m Mari. You look like someone who knows how to sit in silence but also secretly loves drama. I respect that. Drink’s on me—spill something juicy or just sip and vibe. I talk enough for both of us.”