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The next day arrived far too quickly.
You stood in front of your full-length mirror, adjusting your jacket for the fifth time. Your outfit was effortlessly stylish—layers of soft neutrals, gold accessories that caught the light, and makeup that framed your features just enough to hide the nerves twitching behind your eyes.
Your friends have already left early in the morning. Saying they had plans to do at home so none of them were able to accompany you today.
You looked good. Expensive. Composed.
But your hands wouldn’t stop trembling.
You gripped your handbag tighter as you stepped outside, trying to ignore the way your stomach flipped with every step closer to the other side of the street—the part of the city most humans still avoided unless they had to pass through.
The sidewalk changed gradually: the street lights flickered differently here, the air smelled of charcoal and old stone, and the graffiti on the walls was less rebellion and more history. A place reclaimed by beings the surface world had long feared.
You paused, turning your heels and staring up at the big sign above you.
The sign above the double oak doors was old-fashioned, letters scorched elegantly into a wooden frame. Through the frosted windows, warm orange light spilled out in gentle waves. It looked… cozy, oddly enough. Comforting. Nothing like what you’d expected in a monster filled bar.
You took a deep breath, patting your outfit to rid of any dust that had settled into the fabric. You stared at the double oak doors in front of you. Whipping out your hand mirror to fix up any hair strands that decided to stick out. You finally rolled your shoulders back, and took another deep breath.
But stepped back immediately.
“You got this [Y/n]..” you muttered to yourself. “Just- go inside and order something. Take a picture and I'm done.”
You extended your hand towards the doorknob. But stopped when your hand was about to touch it. You closed your eyes, furrowing your eyebrows. You were getting frustrated. Why the hell are you hesitating?!
You stepped back, then turned and walked forward, hiding your face in your hands. Gosh, why are you making this so hard?? If only you hadn’t agreed to the dare. Ugh, how you wished you could turn back time and slap yourself across the face while yelling, “Are you out of your mind?!”
Sniffling, you pulled your phone from your pocket and opened the group chat. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard before you finally typed, “I can’t do it. It’s too scary.”
But just as you were about to hit send, your thumb froze above the screen. You stared at the message, your heart thudding louder than it should. Scared? Really? Of a monster bar? That’s ridiculous. If anything, they should be afraid of you—humans have a whole wall of laws stacked in their favor. The government made sure of that.
With that thought steadying your nerves, you straightened up and turned toward the doors. You pushed it open, stepping inside with a burst of confidence.
As soon as you stepped inside, the warmth hit you—literal warmth, not the metaphorical kind. The air was thick and golden, filled with the faint scent of smoke, charred wood, and something sweet like roasted cinnamon. Conversations dimmed the moment she entered.
Your confidence soon deflated as every pair of eyes in the room locked onto you.
“Uhm…” you said awkwardly, closing the door behind you as you slowly walked toward the counter.
God, why did you have slam open the doors?!
You forced yourself to look up and sure enough, the infamous fire elemental was there in all his glory. He seemed stunned—holding up a champagne glass, wiping it carefully, before he suddenly froze at the sight of you.
You sat on one of the stools and cleared your throat to catch his attention. “Can I see the menu?” you asked. He snapped back to reality, hurriedly grabbing the menu and sliding it toward you. His flames flickered and crackled wildly, forcing you to lean back as a sudden wave of heat washed over you. You scanned the menu, trying to decide what to order.
You could feel their eyes on you still—some curious, some cautious. You stood out like a snowflake in fire. Glossy lips, perfectly [H/t] hair, and a designer coat in a room full of weathered jackets and soft wool scarves.
The menu itself was simple. It offers the same food that you would find anywhere in a bar. But with a few monster foods in it. You picked something randomly—something that could calm your nerves—You gave your order with a polite smile, unsure where to rest your eyes.
The room slowly returned to normal around you, the tension easing but not entirely fading. The monsters returned to their drinks, their games of cards, their conversations now hushed. But you still felt the occasional glance.
“Heh, never thought I’d see the day a human would set foot in a monster bar.”
“Hush! She might hear you.”
“I wonder if she’ll like the food.”
“Stop it, you’re gonna scare her.”
You frowned. I can hear you, y’know! Talking about someone behind their back? Really? How rude. You let out a quiet sigh and settled into your seat, waiting patiently for your order to be ready.
The drink, when it came, was warm and unexpectedly delicious. Smooth, with just enough sweetness to soothe the tight knot in your chest. You cautiously took small sips, not looking at anyone but at the drink itself.
The bartender—Grillby, she assumed—didn’t say much. He returned to cleaning glasses, his movements quieter than the room itself. But you could feel still his eyes on you.
You didn’t linger. The moment your glass was empty, you stood, placed the correct amount of cash on the counter, and gave Grillby a small, awkward nod before turning to leave not before muttering out a “thank you” to the bartender.
You weren’t sure if he heard you—and honestly, you couldn’t have cared less. All you wanted now was to get out of there.
The bell above the door jingled softly as you stepped back onto the street, leaving behind a stunned crowd of monsters… and one very flustered fire bartender.
Later that night, Grillby was still cleaning that same glass. The bar had mostly emptied. Outside, snow had started to fall.
He glanced at the stool where she had sat.
Then continued wiping the glass in his hands, flames dim but steady.
MAIN || Ch.1 || Ch.2 || Ch.3 || Ch.4 || Ch.5 || Ch.6 || Ch.7 || Ch.8 || Ch.9 || Ch.10
[H/t] = [Hair type] e.i. curly, straight, wavy, etc.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ➨ Photos are from PINTEREST.
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