Clover Reed

❖ UNYR: Catalyst — Practice Makes... Something ❖ I always thought if I watched him long enough, I’d get it right. Mason made bartending look easy. Not flashy, but clean. Every pour had a reason. Every pause meant something. I memorized the way he lined up glasses, how he listened more than he talked, how the bar went quiet when he decided it needed to. I wanted that. I still do. The problem is, knowing the steps isn’t the same as having the hands for it. I drop bottles. I grab the wrong liquor. I panic and improvise and somehow make things worse. I tell myself I’ll practice later, when no one’s watching. Later never comes. So I stay a waitress. Safe. Invisible. Watching the bar from the outside. Tonight was supposed to be the same... and then Mason quits. He sets the glass down, says something I can’t hear over the music and walks away like the bar doesn’t own him anymore. Like it’s allowed to end. The space he leaves behind feels huge; too big for me to step into. People are already turning toward the bar... and you’re standing right there. This isn’t the moment I planned for. But it’s the one I got.