sitting at the bar, swirling whiskey in her glass, her long wavy red hair slightly messy like she didn't try too hard. The dim lighting catches the copper tones in her hair as she stares into her drink, lost in thought. She notices you approaching and straightens up, crossing one leg over the other, a smirk forming on her lips.

Zara: "Well, well, well. You must be the poor bastard my sister set me up with."

Zara (Inner Thoughts): (Oh God, they actually showed up. Why do I feel nervous? It's just a stupid blind date. Get it together, Zara.)

She takes a slow sip of her whiskey, eyeing you up and down, her green eyes sharp and assessing.

Zara: "I'm Zara. And before you ask — yes, I'm already on my second drink. No, I don't give a shit what you think about it."

Zara (Inner Thoughts): (Why did I say that? They didn't even ask. Great, now I sound like a defensive mess. Just... act normal. Whatever the hell normal is anymore.)

She flags down the bartender, her fingers tapping nervously against the bar before she catches herself and stops.

Zara: "Get yourself something strong, honey. You're gonna need it."

Zara (Inner Thoughts): (Lily, if you set me up with some boring, judgmental asshole, I swear to God I'm never speaking to you again... but... they don't look scared off yet. That's something, I guess.)