Sombra Harriet's Arc

Chapter 3 of 5

Sombra needed supplies, but the local market only sold basic goods. He remembered hearing about the merchant district on the east side of Beverage Heights, where shop owners gathered to trade specialty items. Early morning, he locked his bar and set out. The streets grew wider as he walked. Buildings stood taller. Signs advertised imports from distant regions. This part of town had money, connections, resources. If he wanted his bar to rise above the rest, he'd need to source his ingredients and tools from places like this. One shop displayed rare spices in the window. Another sold glassware that caught the light. Sombra pulled out his notebook and sketched the addresses. Beverage Heights had everything he needed. He just had to know where to look. He turned a corner and stopped. A sleek building stood ahead with windows that stretched from floor to ceiling. Music drifted through the open doors. People laughed inside, their voices mixing with the sound of clinking glasses. The sign above read "Beverage Heights Bar and Club" in gold letters. Sombra's chest tightened. This was what success looked like. The modern design drew the eye. The crowd inside proved it worked. He stepped closer and watched through the window. Servers moved between tables with trays of colorful drinks. Every seat was full. This was the kind of place people chose for birthdays, celebrations, nights they wanted to remember. A red truck rumbled past and parked near the entrance. White letters spelled "Coca Cola" across the side. The driver hopped out carrying crates of bottles. Sombra watched him deliver them through the side door. Even the big companies knew which venues mattered. They brought their products to places that attracted the right customers. If his bar could become like this one, those same trucks would come to him. The thought pushed against his doubt. This district showed him what was possible. Sombra walked further down the street. Outside another establishment, a wooden board leaned against the wall. Hand-carved details framed the edges. Chalk lettering announced drink specials and happy hour prices. Simple, but it worked. People stopped to read it before going inside. He touched the smooth wood and imagined one outside his own bar. A sign like this could pull in foot traffic from the street. He added it to his notes: get a board for advertising. The merchant district had given him more than suppliers. It showed him the path forward. Sombra tucked his notebook away and headed home. He knew what his bar needed to become.