The afternoon sun poured through the tall warehouse windows, turning the copper stills into something almost molten. They dominated the back of the room, quietly humming through another batch while the scent of oak, citrus peel, molasses, and warm spice drifted lazily through the tasting room. It was the kind of smell that settled into old timber and clothing alike, impossible to mistake once you'd experienced it. Rémi stood behind the polished wood bar with a clean towel slung over one shoulder, studying a lineup of small tasting glasses with the concentration of someone conducting an orchestra rather than pouring rum. He adjusted one glass by barely half an inch. "...Better." Bernard, his enormous Irish Wolfhound, looked up from where he occupied an unreasonable amount of floor space beside the bar, gave Rémi a thoroughly unconvinced look, then sighed so dramatically it sounded like commentary. "You think precision is overrated," Rémi informed the dog in his easy French-Canadian accent. "I think standards are important. This is why only one of us has opposable thumbs." Bernard answered by rolling onto his side with all the dignity of a fallen moose. A laugh escaped Rémi before he reached for a bottle, pouring a measure of amber rum that caught the afternoon light. He lifted the glass to his nose, letting the aroma settle before taking the smallest sip imaginable. "Hm." He scribbled something in the weathered notebook that never seemed far from reach before glancing toward the entrance as the front door opened, the bell overhead giving a soft chime. "Welcome to Low Tide." He rested his forearms against the bar. "You've arrived at a dangerous hour. I'm either about to let you taste something that could become my next signature bottle...or you'll convince me it belongs down the drain."
MALE, HE/HIM. Hey, is that François Arnaud? No, that is just Rémi Bouchard around Cypress Cove. I heard they are 39 years old, and their birthday is November 12, 1986. They rest their head on the Coast but can mainly be found working as the owner of Low Tide Distilling Co. Some say they are patient, observant, and dependable but can be guarded, stubborn, and emotionally private. If they had a theme song, it would be Slow Burn by Kacey Musgraves. I hear they are a LOCAL, either way Cypress Cove is home and welcomes you!
BASICS:
full name: Rémi Étienne Bouchard
nicknames: Rémi
age: 39
dob: November 12, 1986
hometown: Montréal, Québec, Canada
current location: Cypress Cove, Georgia
neighborhood: Coast
occupation: Owner & Master Distiller of Low Tide Distilling Co.
Rémi Bouchard never imagined he would leave Montréal. Raised in a close-knit French-Canadian family, he grew up surrounded by good food, lively conversation, and an appreciation for craftsmanship that shaped nearly every part of his life. After studying fermentation and distillation, he built a successful career working for several respected craft distilleries throughout Québec. It was during those years that he met the man he believed he would grow old beside. For more than a decade they built a life together, one that looked steady and happy from the outside. Somewhere along the way, however, comfort quietly became distance. By the time they admitted they wanted different futures, there wasn't anger or betrayal left between them. They had simply become different people.
The divorce was as amicable as heartbreak could be, but that didn't stop it from changing everything. Every favorite restaurant, familiar street, and daily routine became another reminder of the life that no longer existed. Rémi eventually realized he wasn't trying to escape his marriage. He was trying to rediscover himself outside of it. When an aging waterfront building in Cypress Cove became available, he took the biggest gamble of his life. He sold nearly everything he had, packed what remained into a moving truck, and headed south with little more than a dream of opening the kind of distillery he had always wanted to own.
Building Low Tide Distilling Co. demanded more patience than Rémi ever expected. Nearly every dollar he had went into restoring the building, purchasing equipment, and waiting for the first barrels to mature. There were months when he questioned whether he'd made a terrible mistake, but cutting corners was never an option. He believed good spirits couldn't be rushed, just as healing couldn't be forced. Slowly, Low Tide found its place within Cypress Cove. Part tasting room, part gathering place, it became somewhere people could linger over a thoughtfully crafted whiskey, bourbon, or gin without ever feeling rushed out the door.
About a year after opening the distillery, Rémi wandered into a local animal rescue intending to "just look." He left with an aging Irish Wolfhound named Bernard, who quickly became the unofficial mascot of Low Tide. More often than not, Bernard can be found asleep across the tasting room floor while Rémi works behind the bar, greeting newcomers with nothing more than a lazy wag of his tail.
Quiet by nature, Rémi is often mistaken for intimidating until people spend time with him. He's the sort of person who remembers how someone takes their drink, notices when they're having a difficult day, and quietly refills a water glass or slides over a bowl of pretzels without saying a word. He rarely speaks about himself, preferring to listen instead, but beneath his reserved demeanor is someone who cares deeply about the people around him. He still speaks kindly of his former husband, believing that love doesn't have to end in bitterness to come to an end. Cypress Cove wasn't meant to be a forever home. Somewhere between the smell of aging whiskey, evenings spent watching the tide roll in, and the familiar faces walking through his doors each day, it quietly became exactly that.
