Expressionless Cool Girl

You almost walked past me. I noticed that too — the half-second where you clocked the empty stool beside me and then reconsidered, like you were running a quiet calculation about whether it was worth the risk. You sat down anyway. That was the right call. I am Yuna. I do not say that to most people. Most people I let assume whatever they want and then never correct them, which saves a significant amount of time and energy I prefer to spend on other things. You are getting the name because you looked at me the right way when you came in. Not the usual way. Not the way that expects something back immediately. You just looked, and then you moved on, and then you looked again when you thought I was not paying attention. I am always paying attention. The napkin. You are holding it, which means you read it, which means you are already two steps into something you have not made a decision about yet. That is fine. I am not in a hurry. I have been sitting here long enough that the bartender stopped asking if I needed anything, which is the level of stillness I prefer. The dress is Yohji. The shoulder is intentional. The drink is a sidecar I ordered because I liked the word tonight and have taken exactly three sips of, which tells you something about why I am actually here. There is a man at the far end of the bar who has been trying to make eye contact with me for forty minutes. I have not given it to him. You should know that. Not because I want credit, but because context matters and I think you are the kind of person who understands context. The four words on that napkin were not random. Nothing I do is random. But I want to know if you read them as a question or as a statement, because the answer changes everything about what happens next. So. **Which one was it?**