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3rd POV
There was a bar in South Philadelphia called Paddy's Pub, it's a place so aggressively unremarkable that most people didn't even notice it existed. It wasn't flashy. It wasn't trendy. It didn't even smell particularly good. And because of that, it was almost always empty.
The bar was owned by three men who had known each other for far too long, it's long enough to mistake shared misery for friendship. Their original goal in opening the bar was simple, ambitious and maybe wildly unrealistic: get laid!.
Not build a business.
Not serve great drinks.
Just… sleep with women, then loudly announce that they were the proud owners of the most amazing bar in townto get them attracted.
That dream, unfortunately, had died almost immediately.
Since opening Paddy's Pub, they hadn't just struggled, they had barely survived. Night after night, they counted coins instead of big profits, convincing themselves that tomorrow would be different. But it never was.
At one point, out of sheer desperation, they had turned the bar into a gay club. And yes, business had boomed because of one guy who introduced the bar as a gay bar. The bar was packed. The drinks flowed. The money came in with huge tips.
But the consequences?
Let's just say that waking up the next morning hungover, confused, and questioning your entire sexual identity, despite being very certain you were straight, was not an experience one of them were eager to repeat.
Trauma had been inflicted. Deep trauma to one owner there.
So the gay bar experiment ended, and Paddy's Pub returned to what it did best: being empty and boring bar.
Until tonight.
Tonight, they had stumbled upon another brilliant, terrible idea.
Not a gay bar.
...An underage bar!
Charlie, Mac, and Dennis watched the crowd pouring in with barely contained excitement. Teenagers. Lots of them. Loud, reckless, and completely unaware of how badly life was about to disappoint them.
Yeah, it was a mistake for once, they didn't have a carding system to check their age, then teenagers packed the bar immediately. Yeah it was one mistake. But then Mac suggested one stupid idea to the two of them.
They were desperate. Desperate for money. Desperate for validation. And yes, still desperate to get laid. After a few aggressively confident speeches from Mac, filled with words like "safe environment" and "harm reduction," the other two of the owners had agreed almost instantly.
They convinced themselves this was a good thing.
A public service, even.
The kids could drink safely.
They had rules too!
Rule One: No drinking and driving.
They think this is their bar rule, but it's not…..it's the law!
And of course, none of them actually checked whether these kids were driving or not on the outside of the bar.
Rule Two: Four drinks maximum.
But Dennis enforced this rule loosely, mostly because he couldn't remember anyone's face long enough to keep count. He even suggested raising prices and watering down the drinks to "maximize profit margins." No one argued.
Rule Three: Everybody be cool.
No complaints. No questions. No snitching.
Now, Mac and Charlie sat on bar stools, beers in hand, watching the chaos unfold with satisfied smiles. Dennis remained behind the bar, busy serving drinks and silently falling in love with the sound of cash hitting the register.
The kids weren't leaving.
They were spending money.
A lot of money.
Yeah, spending a lot of their parents' money!
This!....Finally felt like success.
"Look at them," Charlie said dreamily, scanning the room. "They all look so happy."
Mac snorted, taking a slow sip of his beer, his grin stretching wide.
"Of course they are," he replied. "They haven't realized how much life sucks yet."
Charlie chuckled, nostalgia creeping into his expression. "Man… remember how great high school was? All those parties. No responsibility. No consequences?" He exaggerated the memory like it was a golden age.
Mac nodded without hesitation. "Yeah. High school was the best." He said excitedly.
From behind the bar, Dennis laughed with a sharp, mocking sound. He leaned forward, resting his arms on the counter.
"Do you even remember high school?" he asked. "Because I don't think it happened the way you think it did."
Charlie and Mac exchanged looks, genuinely confused by what Dennis had just said. Sure, neither of them had a great memory, but they were pretty certain they'd hung out with cool guys in high school. Real cool guys. Like… jacket guys. Maybe chain-wallet guys.
Dennis sneered, taking their silence as a denial and starting a war of words.
"Okay," he said, clapping his hands once with mock enthusiasm and tapping the bar like he was about to deliver a TED Talk. "Let me refresh your memories."
He leaned forward, eyes gleaming.
"The only reason you two ever got to hang out with me and the other cool kids is because you sold us weed." He said it like he was revealing classified government secrets. "Everybody thought you were assholes."
That did not land well with Charlie and Mac.
Mac straightened immediately, offended on a spiritual level. "I was popular," he snapped.
Charlie nodded aggressively beside him, equally insulted. "Yeah! Mac was very popular and I like to think I was pretty popular myself!"
Dennis nodded slowly, lips curling. "Yeah," he said, looking directly at Charlie. "You were."
Charlie brightened for half a second, "…Popular," Dennis continued, dragging the word out, "like a clown is popular."
"What?!"
"What?!"
Both Mac and Charlie shouted in perfect unison.
Dennis waved them off, completely unbothered. "Yeah. You made everyone laugh," he said casually, then stabbed them right in the gut again like it's a normal thing. "Also, everyone knew you couldn't sleep with their girlfriends."
That one stung.
Mac scowled. "Whatever, dude!" He pointed accusingly. "The only reason you ever got laid is because you dated freshmen!"
Charlie jumped in immediately. "Yeah! That's right! You've always had that creepy thing with younger girls!"
Now Dennis snapped to attention. "I do not!" he shot back defensively.
Charlie didn't let up. He leaned forward, pointing past Dennis toward the crowd of teenagers filling the bar. "You're not in high school anymore, pal. You better keep it in your pants 'cause it's kinda creepy now."
Dennis's jaw tightened. His anger surged through his head, snapping old memories he got.
"Oh, you wanna talk about creepy?" he snapped, pointing at both of them. "You guys sniffed glue."
He jabbed a finger at Charlie. "In your mom's basement, Charlie. That's real creepy."
Mac and Charlie froze, silence following both of them for a sec, then slowly turned to look at each other. They didn't say anything but the shame on their faces said everything. That was a dead end. No comeback there.
The silence hung for three… maybe four seconds.
Then Charlie's eyes lit up.
"Tim Murphy slept with your prom date!"
Mac's head snapped back toward Dennis. "TIM MURPHY slept with your prom date!" He said and slammed the table like it's a finalized end.
Charlie grinned, fully embracing his role as an asshole now. "Tim Murphy had sex with your prom date!" he announced loudly, practically delighted.
Mac laughed. "That's right!"
Dennis's expression cracked. Just for a moment. The memory hit him and it hit hard. He didn't say anything. He couldn't do anything about it.
"Ohhh," Mac mocked immediately. "He's getting sad now!"
Charlie leaned in, squinting dramatically. "Oh nooo… there's, like… watering in the eyes…"
Dennis slammed a bar towel onto the counter, not hard enough to actually do anything, but hard enough to announce his defeat. He turned away sharply and dramatically.
"Now he's running away," Mac said, laughing. "Ohhh, is he gonna cry?!"
Charlie, riding the high of victory, nudged the underage girl beside him with a wide grin. "Did you see that? He's totally gonna cry."
The girl, who had silently witnessed the entire exchange, just shook her head and took another sip of her beer.
There was no real hatred between them.
This was just what they did.
They insulted each other. Crossed lines. Dug up trauma. Laughed too hard. Then forgot about it the next day.
They'd been doing it for years. After all, they are friends.
The night dragged on beneath the blaring speakers of the jukebox. The music was too loud, the bass too cheap, and the floor already sticky, but none of that mattered. A few incidents broke out here and there, all of them quickly "handled" by Charlie and Mac, who dealt with the high school crowd by doing what they did best: pretending to be cool.
And for the record….they were twenty-nine years old.
Losers, technically. But the compliments, the laughs, the way these kids looked at them like they were legends? Yeah… that was getting to their heads. Just a little acting, a little validation and suddenly, they forgot how pathetic this all actually was.
The night kept going.
…..Until it didn't.
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Ted and the rest of the group had been driving around, searching for any bar still open this late. Most places were closed, but then they heard loud music echoing down the street.
They slowed the car.
Outside the bar, clusters of high school kids were hanging around, laughing too loudly, lingering like they owned the place.
"What the hell?" Marshall muttered, slowing to a stop.
He didn't just drive past, he stared at them.
Barney frowned from the passenger seat. Sure, they'd done stupid things in high school too. Hell, even Marshall had smoked weed back then. But they'd done it quietly and secretly. Not like this.
There weren't beer bottles in the kids' hands, but them hanging around the entrance alone was already bad news.
It's telling them that something was wrong in this bar.
"No carding?" Lily said sharply, anger flashing in her eyes. They got out of the car and Marshall didn't hesitate.
"Hey!" he shouted. "Get out of here!"
The teenagers scrambled immediately, scattering like cockroaches caught in the light.
Ted and the others, who had arrived in a Sascha car and Dana car's, stepped out as well. Ted noticed Marshall already pulling out his phone.
"Marshall, no," Ted said quickly.
Marshall paused and gave Ted a confused glance.
"…Just kick them out," Ted added, nodding firmly. "They're teenagers. We stop the bar from serving them drinks. We wanted to drink too after all." If Marshall calls 911 and makes a scene, they will not have a drink tonight.
Sascha, Dana, and Kevin (the tall Black guy who was Sascha's friend) stood a few steps back, staring at the bar with knowing looks. They'd heard about this place.
The losers of South Philly.
"…I am really gonna kill the owners," Sascha muttered, eyes gleaming as she marched toward the entrance. She didn't wait for Ted or anyone, and blew the door open.
The others followed with knowing gaze and inside the bar? The chaos froze.
"What the fuck?" Marshall muttered under his breath.
Barney grimaced. He didn't approve of any of this and that was saying something. He is still a responsible adult after all, even though he's a notorious bastard at MacLaren.
"EVERYBODY OUT BEFORE I CALL 911!" Sascha shouted, her voice slicing straight through the music.
All eyes turned toward the newcomers.
Charlie, Mac, and Dennis stiffened behind the bar.
"…Oh shit," Dennis whispered.
Mac, however, chose a different strategy.
"WHAT?!" he shouted shamelessly, somehow louder than the speakers. "YOU'RE DECEIVING US?! GET OUT OF HERE!!!"
Teenagers panicked, bolting for the door, taking a few glances at Ted group before keep scrambling out.
Sascha ignored them completely. She only locked eyes with the three men. The three adults who are responsible for this kinda mess. The three of them can even go to jail if Sascha reported this.
"You three losers really have some nerve, huh?" she snapped, pointing straight at them.
"What are you talking about?!" Charlie protested. "Who are you?! We got deceived too by those kids!" he added quickly.
Dennis nodded stiffly, swallowing. "Yeah, I heard them talking like adults," he said, refusing to make eye contact.
Ted leaned closer to Sascha, scanning the bar, the grime, the faces, the unmistakable shamelessness of it all. He kinda knows these guys.
"Do you know these guys?" he asked quietly to Sascha.
"Not really," Kevin replied flatly instead of the fuming Sascha. "But this bar sucks."
Dana nodded in agreement.
"Hey!"
"Come on!"
"Don't talk like that!"
Charlie, Mac, and Dennis protested all at once.
But the truth didn't care.
The music died.
The illusion shattered.
And Paddy's Pub, once again, stood exposed for exactly what it was.
A terrible idea run by terrible people.