It was a special, terrible day for Cary Rivera. Exactly two months ago, on her six month tenure at Career Forward Unemployment Office, she received a case file that was nothing short of a cruel joke: the entirety of a rising pop band that was at risk of disbandment due to scanrrrrrr dal. It would have made for an ice breaker at every party for the rest of Cary’s life--that is, if she went to parties and truly wanted anyone to know.

And even though she was anything if level-headed and predictable, Cary could not have seen where her life would have taken a mere four weeks after the fact. She certainly would not have imagined it would be sandwiched in the back of a luxury car between Iona Brown, the bright -yed, flashy, and indisputably adorable Beauty Dream, and her coworker, Terra, someone who was into that sort of thing.

“Ohmygod ohmygod thank you so, so, so much for taking me along!” Terra quasi-squealed, leaning over Cary, who was already trying to sit as far the back of the seat as she could manage. “I’ve got more lives than my Aunty Georgia’s maine coon with all the times I’ve died and gone to heaven!”

“And you’ve raised enough hell for each time,” added Cary dryly.

“Ah ha ha! It’s no trouble at all!” said Iona, giving a cheery wave as if she was much farther away. “What could I do after hearing such an adorable scream?”

“Oh don’t give her that,” said Cary. “You’ve seen how far she’s taken everything else, right?”

“Wuh wooooooh,” said Terra, leaning into a teasing smile. “Do I detect a hint of jealousy?”

“No, because I’m nothing like you,” Cary shot back.

“Now now, everyone be nice! Let’s all smile like we’re on TV!” said Iona, poking her own cheek as if to encourage them. “After all, today’s a really special day! Who can tell me why?”

“It’s been a month since Dream Come True’s been taken up by Career Forward,” said Cary frankly.

“Give this pretty lady a silver dollar!” sang Iona, pointing at Cary. “I’m so happy that you remembered, Cary-dear!”

“I don’t think any of us could forget if we tried,” Cary said with a surprisingly warm laugh. “After all, you guys stormed the castle.”

“I thought you were just going to say we ker-smashed right through the front door!” Iona giggled. “You’re good at spinning things nicely too! Wanna be a part of PR?”

“Christ, no,” Cary said. With a slow grind and a small nudge forward, the car pulled to a curb and stopped.

“And we’re ready to go!” said Iona. “Alright ladies! Get ready for a night of fun and lux!”

“Dinner with Dream Come True!” Terra screamed once more, ruffling her own hair. “Am I dressed right? How do I look?”

“Like a geek in a sweatshirt,” said Cary.

“Now now! Everyone be nice!” said Iona once more. “We don’t need to worry about appearance here, because I’ve picked a place where we could all relax and be ourselves!” Cary didn’t know what to take from that, especially since she still wore the brightly colored garb only a pop star would call ‘civvie clothes’.

With a dramatic flourish, she opened her side door wide, framing a small brick building straddled by two large office buildings, looking dark save for a few blue and amber neon beer logos glowing through the black windows. Its aged candy-cane awning almost gloomily covered a hand-painted welcome sign…

“‘The Naughty Kitten’?” Cary said, feeling one eyebrow collapse while the other raised to her hairline.

“Isn’t that a...gay bar?” Terra asked.

“That’s right! And it came at the highest recommendation!” said Iona, sliding out onto the pavement. “Alright, everybody in!”

“Are you nuts?!” said Cary. “I mean ju--aren’t you guys trying to keep a low profile? What are people going to think if you walk into a place like this?”

“What better way to celebrate Pride Month?” said Iona, clapping her hands. “Yay, solidarity! Yay, allyship!”

“I think it’ll be okay! Prob’ly,” Terra offered to Cary with an amenable shrug. “After all, I think this is more of the place where your aunt would go to get some action, you know?”

“You’re not making it sound any better! Ah, Iona, wait!” Cary said, reaching in futility to stop Iona from briskly trotting to the solid rusty door, pulling it open with a pleasant chime.

“Three for the DCT party, please!” she said as she twirled through the cramped foyer, Cary almost stumbling into her to catch up. Iona’s chirp was met with a few middle-aged patrons looking up from their tables, booths, and ancient pool table to give her a quizzical look.

Oh no, Cary thought, feeling a wave of secondhand embarrassment churn in her stomach. She was still processing the scene when an ‘Oh, isn’t that one of the Working Idols?’ rang out from some corner, granting permission for the patrons to pull out their phones, a few venturing up to greet an eagerly waving Iona.

“Huh! I didn’t think they’d be popular with the older crowd,” said Terra, popping up next to Cary. “Looks like this Work Versus Idol thing has really earned them a lot of local attention!”

“Where does she get this...people energy?” Cary asked, watching as Iona nodded pleasantly to a question from a small group, eagerly reaching out her arms to give them a hug.

“I guess she’s just a bona fide extrovert,” said Terra plainly, tilting her head. “Oh man, it’s so nice that this place doesn’t look skuztastic. You ever been to a gay bar, Cary?”

“No, actually,” said Cary.

“Then just rely on me!” said Terra, proudly putting her hands on her hips. “I, representative of the young, queer generation shall guide you through. Bartender! One of the pinkest, girliest drinks you have that couldn’t get me drunk if I had twenty!”

“Make it two!” said Iona, waving to the barkeeper over the small crowd coming around her. The bartender gave a loud laugh, as Cary buried her face in her hand.

“Iona, sweetie, we got a back room for a reason,” said the now familiar voice of Dusty Mathis, with her usually bright smile reflecting an amusement at the sight of anyone. At her side slunk Odila, a smirk quickly thrown over what was no doubt a more relaxed, sincere expression before anyone other than Dusty had entered the room.

“Hey there, if it isn’t Care-bear!” said Odila. “Here to start my ‘weirdo walks into a bar’ joke for me!”

“Evening, you two,” said Cary, trying her best not to give them the exasperated expression she knew they wanted. “Good to see you two in spirits.”

“How could we not be?” said Dusty with a chuckle. “It’s not every day that someone like Iona invites you to a lesbian bar out of the blue. I can’t help but wonder how she got this in her head.”

“Actually, I was the one who suggested it,” said a smooth voice behind Cary, as she turned over to see Serafine and Lori by the door. They were a sharp contrast, Serafine with her tall poise and sequin-trimmed outfit, looking very much like a pop star, and Lori, short and petite with a cheerfully modest dress. But they shared a very similar friendly, welcoming smile that couldn’t help but put Cary at ease.

“Iona was sharing a frank worry about Odila feeling uncomfortable with a group affair,” said Serafine, closing her eyes and lifting a hand to her chest. “So I suggested that we extend an invitation to her favorite haunt--here at the Naughty Kitten!”

“What the--? How did you know I--” Odila started, for the first time looking genuinely flustered, casting a ‘how could you’ side glance to Dusty, who shook her head immediately.

“Don’t you remember?” Serafine asked. “You mentioned such when you invited me for drinks, not long after we met?”

“Oh yeah! That’s when we were trying to figure out if Serafine was--” Dusty started, this time Odila finishing with a furious shake of her head.

“I’ve never been to a bar like this before,” Lori said with an embarrassed admittance, slowly walking up to Cary as the bar crowd began to disperse between the the groups. “I feel like I really stick out. Should I even be here?”

“No, no, you’re fine,” said Cary, finding herself relax implicitly. There was something about Lori that struck Cary a easy to talk to. Maybe against the flamboyant, cheeky, and dramatic personalities of the others, she seemed the closest one to Cary’s level of normal. If anything, they were the only ones dressed in semi-formal work clothes. “I’ve actually never been to a gay bar either. And I’m of the community, I guess.”

“Really?” Lori said, tilting her head in an amused smile.

“Y-yeah,” Cary said, scratching her head. “Bisexual, I guess. Though I’m one of those weirdo fogeys who’s like ‘I’m more than a label’! So uh, don’t worry, I guess.” Cary always hated how award the few times she needed to describe herself felt, and how the terminology felt too sharp and symmetrical to describe her. Two things she did not need to help disentangle the menacing, unimpressive cavern of her personal life.

“You’re not a fogey! Not at all,” said Lori. “But that does remind me. Now’s not a good time since we’re all having fun, but I want to talk to you about something on our next appointment.”

“About what?” Cary said. Lori answered with a glance to her side, as if in self-reflective hesitation. If Cary didn’t know better, it looked like she already had second thoughts. Just when Cary was about to assure her and offer her a polite out, Lori returned her gaze with a bright smile.

“I need a big favor,” she said.