βno whiskey sour. um, thatβs really good to know. thanks.β spencer took the seat, looking for all the world like someone who did not belong in this bar. there was a number of reason for thatβ the least of which was that he was technically underage.Β βjust, uhβ¦β he had caught the bartenderβs attention, and he gestured at romil.Β βwhatever heβs drinking?β he had learned, after two weeks in eldora, that they didnβt take kindly to him trying to get a white claw. he was going to get more social as he drank, so it was probably best to not start out awkward.Β βiβm spence. what did i just order?β
Β Β Β Β Β normally, romil mightβve simply side eyed the other and ignored his awkward behavior. he mightβve busied himself with his phone rather than bother commenting -- call it boredom that pushed him to at say anything at all.Β Β βa little tense there...are you lost or something?β he quips. the other just seemed out of place. perhaps heβs just new in town or someone romil has yet to have met. something he looks down at his glass then back to spence.Β β just an old fashion. and something tells me youβre not gonna like it much. β trying ( and failing ) to hold back a little bit of his amusement at the otherβs confusion.Β β rj.β he says simply, gesturing to himself lazily.Β
lily claims the seat cautiously , eyeing the mysterious stains littered across the bart top with obvious apprehension before she draws her eyes up toward the other . sheβs not much for a raging night slamming pints , see , and the atmospheres just quiet enough to coincide tonight . a weary laugh in acknowledgement of his invitation escapes her , eyes fixed on romilβs silhouette intently . itβs in one ear and out the other , for reasons hardly worth prattling over. β oh , thatβs criminal , β she agrees absently , unsure as wild eyes scan the menu boards . β well . you know stuff about things . whatβs something thatβll give me the same effect as a lot of whiskey , while tasting nothing like whiskey whatsoever ? β
Β Β Β Β Β β just cruel. β he complained. a small smirk pulls onto his lips. classic face of mischief.Β βlike whiskey but without tasting -- iβm not sure if thatβs possible, lils.βΒ heβs no bartender, the tiny collection of just a handful of his favorite bottle of wines and dark liquor at home is evidence to that. but as a bar regular with an adventurous enough palette to try just about anything, he might as well be. perks of being a chef, he supposes. βwhat do you usually order? i donβt know if i would trust me.βΒ romil rests his head in his hand dropping his voice down to a mumble,Β βunless you wanna try, i donβt know a long island ice tea.βΒ
a lot of people would probably tell you that choosing your hobby as work is a piece of cake, but recently theoβs grown to disagree ; as much as he loves photography and being a professional ( relatively ), it can grow rather tedious over time, especially with the current lack of clients heβs finding. before he can even open his mouth to inquire about the free seat at the bar, the other is telling him he can have it. β thanks. β he offers, as he sits down. β so itβs just sour, then ? thatβs barbaric. β not that heβs ever touched a glass of whiskey anythingΒ before.Β β thanks for the heads up. got any recommendations then ? β
Β Β Β Β Β βdonβt mention it.β he said, shaking his head softly as the other settles into the seat beside him. while he mightβve evaded small talk after a terribly long day of work -- the otherβs joke persuades romil to stay even just for a moment.Β βliteral torture. think the bartenderβs out to get me.β romil replies, a faint smile pulled the corners of his lips. lazily, he taps fingers on the bar to the beat of the faint music playing overhead.Β Β βiβm no bar aficionado but keep it simple. rum and coke or something like that.βΒ Β
her eyes seem to dart anywhere but his direction. if she werenβt so stubborn, suzy would walk out and find somewhere else to go. but instead, she merely crossed her legs and waited.Β βno, some things do change,β she points out, glancing at him before setting her debit card on the counter. suzy chews on her lip. why is he still talking to her? couldnβt they just pretend that the other didnβt exist?Β βoh, iβve been thriving. living my best life. and you, rj?β
Β Β Β Β Β looking down at a glass full of just ice, rj questions, βdo they? thatβs hard to believe.β but i guessΒ you sure have, is what romil wants to say.Β however he draws in his lower lip, concealing a bitter chuckle. βthatβs really good to hear,β he doesnβt know if the tone in his voice is thinly veiled jealousy, bitterness, or disbelief. maybe a mix of the three.Β for a moment, he thought he could pretend they didnβt know each other and head home for the night. then again, part of him disliked pretending they didnβt have what they once did. βreally great, yeah.β he is not at all doing great. though he can only hope heβs still a good liar.Β βstill working at the motel?βΒ
βWow, buy a girl a drink first before you ask her outβ she joked obviously. Sliding into the seat she waved the bartender down,Β βWell, good thing I donβt mix my liquor. Tequila on the rocks pleaseβ she simply said to the bartender. Looking over at him she tapped her finger on top of the bar,Β βSo, have a good day?β she asked.Β
Β Β Β Β Β a small chuckle escapes him, βnoted.β romil sighs, nodding his head. βoh, yeah. one of the best days of my life. canβt you tell?β he says, his words soaked in sarcasm. though itβs not really directed at her. more or less, just at the question itself. he hates that question in general. usually people donβt actually care, itβs all just a formality.Β βand you?βΒ
wrinkling her nose, ivy immediately shook her head. βdonβt worry. pretty sure iβve never ordered a whiskey sour in my life, anyways.β she said, sliding into the seat. peering over the bar, she tried to assess what she wanted in time for the bartender to catch her eye. βa glass of prosecco please β thank you.β ivy was operating off the assumption that something bubbly would pep her up a little. she didnβt need to put up a falsely perky front for romil, but that didnβt mean she wanted to come across as a buzzkill, either. βso, what are the plans for tonight? iβm not interrupting any ploys to pick up a hot date, am i?β she asked, a playful smirk on her lips.
Β Β Β Β Β Β βmissing out. well, maybe not here.βΒ romil said, a chuckle under his breath before taking one last sip on his less than great drink. itβs a relief, really. out of all the people he couldβve chosen to make small talk with at a bar after a tedious day at work -- ivy had to be among the best of those options.Β βah, yeah i am actually.β he starts, as if heβs just remembered his plans for the evening. in truth, he has none.Β βyou know, when iβm into someone i always show up to dates in my work uniform. god, the apron? now thatΒ really impresses the pants off them. man in uniform they say, right?β rj jokes, a cheeky grin taking over his features.Β βno date. just me tonight. you?βΒ
βAlright, so you donβt recommend ordering the whiskey sour,β she concluded, not that she even knew what exactly was in a whiskey sour, aside from whiskey, she assumed,Β βWhat do you recommend I order?β she asked, raising an eyebrow,Β β-and think carefully, cos I donβt wanna waste my money if it sucks,β she added, hoping he might take the hint and foot the bill for her, if she was lucky and he was drunk enough to be so kind.
Β Β Β Β Β Β βwhew, okay thatβs alot a pressure. gotta think on this one.β rj remarks. the ponders a moment going through all of his favorite drinks. βitβs gonna be tough cause between you and me,β he drops his voice down to a whisper, leaning over slightly. as if he had a some wild secret to share.Β βthis bartender is not great.β finally, heβs made a decision.Β βgo with a rum and coke. canβt mess that up.βΒ
arden had been at the diner for three years, it was her first job ever that wasnβt skating, and she knew that it was rough when she first started. she dropped many things, fucked up on orders, and often got into heated arguments with the staff and sometimes customers. it was amazing to her, that first year, that she hadnβt gotten fired. though it took a little bit of begging that she would do better and not be such a bitch to people that were only trying to correct her to better help her and the rest of the employees. when you grow up thinking youβre the best and get hit with that reality check that you are in fact, not, well, it made her angry. within the three years she had improved and more often than not was the person that tried to deescalate the fights. today was just a really off fucking day for everyone, she guessed.Β βwhat am i gonna tell you, no?β she said, looking over at romil before scooting down so he could sit. she grabbed her pack of cigarettes and offered one to him if he wanted it. she took a drink from her tea before running a hand through her hair, massaging her own scalp from the impending headache that came from a long day.Β βi felt like i was going to blow up so i feel you.β
Β Β Β Β Β βwell you could.Β wouldnβt be very nice.β he remarks, taking his seat beside her. nearly ten hours up on his feet all day has taken a toll. the break was clearly needed. four years at the diner and not a single shift gets easier. in fact, it feels as though itβs only gotten progressively worse. more monotonous and yet somehow equally as chaotic.Β the usual two dozen orders within five minutes and the occasional dropped plate.Β unrewarding job that he doesnβt really want to be stuck in to begin with? a recipe for exhaustion.Β βthanks,β he mumbles accepting the cigarette offer.Β βfuckinβ assholes at table 6, i get it.β he places the cigarette between his lips, patting his pockets for a lighter.Β βyou would think the manager would throw them out but no, customerβs always right bullshit.βΒ
Β Β Β long, tedious days at work calls for a long ( far less tedious ) few hours at the local bar. at this point in his life, romil is nearly what some may consider a barfly. frequenting whenever he needed to decompress from a day doing the exact opposite of what heβd like to be doing with his life.Β β nah, itβs not taken.β he says noticing someone approach out of the corner of his eye before theyβre even able to ask. people always wrongfully assume the empty seats next to him potentially wait a partner whoβs dashed offΒ to the bathroomΒ or something. but, nope. usually, itβs just him, his thoughts, and his whiskey sour.Β βdonβt get the whiskey sour. bartender skims of the whiskey.βΒ
arden was on her break outside the diner, there were drunk men yelling back and forth between another table and arden was at her breaking point serving them. she understood, it was late at night, they were drunk and this was the perfect place to come for food after a night out. she had a cigarette in hand and a cup of iced tea that she wished was alcohol.Β βfucksake,β she whispered, feeling her phone buzz in her pocket, it was another unknown number, she clicked decline before placing her phone next to her. it had been a rough night to begin with, the drunk men were just the icing on the cake. she had collided with another waitress a batch of hot coffee and the stain on her shirt was very visible. then there was one of the fryers going down earlier and that had caused a back up on orders and she felt like if she didnβt get out of there she would explode. instead of doing any of that, she smokes.Β
Β Β Β Β Β Β somehow, romil always gets roped in a double shift at the diner. likely, his coworkers not coming in when theyβre meant to is to blame. still, as usual he is rather exhausted.Β the table of drunk assholes resulting in remaking the same plate of scrambled eggs about a trillion times. inbetween mix up with the rest of the staff resulting in the usual petty argument, rj gladly took his lunch break. though, it wasnβt exactly ideal that arden was in one of his favorite break hiding spots. βcan i sit here?β rj asks.Β βbrutal in there. iβve only got 10 minutes left.β what he means is he doesnβt have much time to go elsewhere.Β
expert hands slid the ceramic plate in front of the other and a look of concern painted over reggieβs face. it was late and he always found that food was always the method to soothe an anxious soul.Β βhere.β he pushed the plate closer to them.Β βeat and tell me whatβs wrong. believe me ββ it was his turn to sit down across from them, arms bulking as he crossed them over his chest.Β βnothingβs better than having some korean food in your belly.β
Β Β Β Β Β resting his head in his hand, romil taps a finger on the table as his thoughts run around in his mind. works been tedious. nothing truly fulfilling. then again, not much in his life has been. maybe he should quit -- though he has this thought at least once a week and itβs not as if her could afford to lose his job. the clank of a plate being sat before him catches his attention and pulls his out of his existential thought spiral.Β βhm? oh --β he says.Β βthanks... man. uh,β he considers genuinely telling the other about his problems. but,Β thereβs no way heβs expelling all of that onto the other.Β βjust tired. pulled a double at the restaurant today.β he mumbles, picking up a fork as he looks down at the plate.
* Β Β Β AVAN JOGIA+ CIS MAN+ HE/HIM ββ have you seen ROMIL βRJβ JOSHI around? theyβre a TWENTY THREE year old LINE COOK known around town as the THE OPAQUE. not only are they broke af, but theyβve been in town for FOUR YEARS. theyβre VENTURESOME + SELF MOTIVATED, as well as HEDONISTIC+ FANCIFUL, but what else would you expect from a AQUARIUS? one nail painted a different color from the rest, lips chapped and red from gnawing at the surface whenever theyβre lost in thought, and the smell of freshly baked bread on a cool sunday morning. Β Β * OOC INFO: raq. 21. cst. she/her.
hello hello hereβs romil! iβve linked quick things to know /Β his wanted connections tag so we can throw together a plot if youβre down! youβre welcome to slide in my dms to plot with me or iβll pop in to plot with you. would love to see yaβ !
name: romilΒ βrjβ joshi
age: twenty-three
date of birth: Β february 12th || aquarius sun, aries moon, scorpio risingΒ
place of birth: albuquerque, new mexico
orientation: bisexual
occupation: line cook at a diner
tl;dr: definitely the guy with about a billion pipe dreams who stays in the town he swears heβll make it out of one day.Β well meaning, but probably not as warm as he could be. a big dreamer, who ( thanks to lifeβs unending twist and turns ) really hasnβt fulfilled a single one of hisΒ goals. incredibly headstrong, but i mean we gotta love him for tryingΒ Β Β i keep thinking about the ratitoute musical and how i fully made an anyone can cook ass muse subconsciousΒ huh?Β Β sfsad
MUSINGS /// Β WANTED CONNECTIONS TAG
MORE IN-DEPTHΒ
Β There isnβt too much about Romilβs early life that veers from the average. Some might say his life was a textbook case of the perfect middle class suburban lifestyle. White picket fences surrounding a happy little family of RJ, his parents, his 3 sisters, and even a family dog. They couldnβt be more average. Far from wealth but abundant in the mundane. His motherβs unrelenting schedule as a registered nurse pretty much gave way to RJ spending a good amount of time with his dad. Most of the time they spent together was in the kitchen as his dad tried about a dozen recipes to somehow satisfy his family full of picky eaters. Itβs really those days that would lead RJ to fall in love with cooking. From cooking alongside his dad to making dinner for his family some nights, he definitely found his passion at a very young age.
As he grew older, that passion never really faded. Romil would decide heβd chase his passions. The plan was pretty simple. Get the hell out of New Mexico, ( blah blah, he totally didnβt really plan this middle bit well )Β open a restaurant of his own some day, and travel the world with all his profits. Head full of big, bright dreams heβd finish highschool and move to El Dora with his girlfriend. It was all meant to be easy.
Unsurprisingly, his overzealous dreams took a quick halt when he realized it wasnβt as effortless as he hoped itβd be. Everything he was trying to pursue sat at a complete standstill and he was completely and utterly broke. Life on his own so young without theΒ help of his parents ( much too prideful to reach out to them ) turned out to be a bit tougher than he thought. Bills piled and his relationship would break under the pressure of financial stress. In addition, his own rose-colored glasses of how things were meant to be shatter -- albeit for better or for worse.Β
Itβs been several years now and thereβs been no progress in his original ( as he sees it now ) a little bit frivolous dream. Parts of him still hopes something magical will happen, but even then he doubts. All of which, boils down to where he is now; just a bit stuck in a rut. What was once someone overly lively turned a little bit inward, colder. Jaded by the let downs that he wasnβt quite prepared for.Β
PERSONALITY:Β
Definitely has a case of big dreams but no thoughts. While he wants alot of things and is rather self motivated to achieve them, he hasnβt a clue really where to start. And he can be a bit too prideful to ever want to ask anyone. The best way I can put is mildly aimless but he just knows he shooting for something.Β
Tendency to come off a little mysterious ( itβs the scorpio rising for me lmao). Not at all a social type and tends to keep most people at an arms length. Appears to be feeling great and very happy / proud of about where he is in life on the outisde -- but,Β he is definitely not.Β Youβd have to know him very well to see though that faΓ§ade. Itβs been too many years and heβs gotten good at it. Though, the loyalist friend youβd probably ever had theyβre someone heβs willing to care for. Though, he probably wonβt spend a ton of time saying that to them but he might make them a box of cookies randomly just to say i love you.
Often his own big ideas cloud his judgment. Tendency to be blinded by his desire to be successful in something ( as he does feel like quite the failure in everything ). Maybe a little melodramatic at time and definitely self-destructive when things donβt go precisely as heβdΒ βplannedβ.
βCall Me Maybeβ was my jam when I was little. I made up this whole dance just to crack my mom up. All I remember is it involved a lot of spinning, and rump shaking.
LOVE, VICTOR
Season 1, Episode 3Β βBattle of the Bandsβ
