Gabe walks in and goes straight up stairs, he is so tired. There are beautiful feathery wings in his back, and this isn't an unusual sight in this place.

His head hits the pillow and he falls asleep.

Henry follows Gabe inside, but doesn't go upstairs. He isn't tired and can stand to socialize a little, or at least read a book by the bar, his grayish wings draped around himself like a feathery blanket.

Scott was not expecting a bar. A restaurant? A hotel? Whatever this is, he wasn't expecting it, and he's still not sure what he's looking at. There are plenty of humans (or werewolves, or banshees...), but there are also all kinds of people he doesn't recognize. Skin that makes him squint with how vibrant the colors are, eyes that are in unexpected positions, and...an angel. With his face.

Scott walks over. And sits. Next to the angel.

"Hey. Come here often?"

"Live here," Henry says looking Scott up and down, "we might be alts. My name is Henry."

"My friends call me Scott. What is this place? And what do you mean by 'alts'?"

"This place is called Milliways, it is a sort of multidimensional hub in the shape of bar. This place's door temporarily hijacks doors from other places, collecting patrons from around the multiverse. Sometimes these patrons are alternate versions of the same person."

"Right. Here's how this is going to work. You're going to tell me why I should trust anything you say. And then I'll see if I trust you."

"Trust? You shouldn't trust me. You should observe and think for yourself. But if you want reasons to believe me... Well, how many ruses are likely to be based on the premise this place exists and that you met a differently species version of yourself in it?"

"Any druid could probably pull this off. Fooling the senses isn't the hardest thing they've done in the past. And I've recently had experience with technology that could affect memories. I'm sure you'll say you're real, that you're really a version of me, but how well does that hold up when I try to leave? Just stop pretending."

"Oh, I am so sorry. Mind-affecting magic or tech is the worst. I am actually not sure if we are versions of each other, like... are you very close to a half-cousin named Gabe or similar? If you leave, the door will lead to where it normally leads and you might never see Milliways again. And you do realize that if I am real then I can't stop pretending and if am not whoever is doing this to you wouldn't stop pretending for your benefit?"

His eyes change color. "Okay. Let's find out if we're 'alts'." He stands and heads for the door, opening it. Outside, Henry can see a police station for seconds, before the door shuts. "I don't think I know a Gabe. What's he like?"

"Oh," Henry chuckles, "you would know if you had one. Gabe..." Henry tries to think of flattering terms, "very loyal to me and the one he loves. Emotion, impulsive, carefree, artistic. After my first parents died I was raised by his mother, she divorced her husband because he was racist towards me and Gabe never blamed me for it."

"My dad loves me. It was never his decision to stay away. He just wasn't ready to raise anyone. I don't think they're the same. And I don't know anyone carefree. Are you sure you're not a hallucination?" 

"Do you often get useful answers from that question?" Henry says dryly. "And I am pretty sure my first-set of biological parents loved me they just died when I was a little."

"I'm sorry about your family. It's hard not, to not be able to trust who you thought you could."

He glances around for someone, a bartender or a waiter, to order, and he spots someone.

"Excuse me, sir," he says, gesturing at a passing waiter. "Could I please order something? Do you have menus around here?"

"At Milliways we don't need any menus. We offer everything. If either of you want to eat, I'll bring ya something," the waiter says.

Henry waves at the waiter. "It was a long time ago, but thank you, Scott. And while Milliways doesn't like menus, I can make a few suggestions? What kind of things do you like?"

"No game, but fish, chicken, or beef is fine. Maybe some kind of sandwich. What are the prices like?"

"Dirt cheap, kid. Deposit some money into an account back home later, and you'll have the funds here."

"I will go with a monte cristo. With a rapsberry smoothie."

"I'll take a tuna melt, thanks."

"I'll get on that."

The waiter disappears into the crowd.

"So if you aren't an 'alt', why do we have the same face? Have you ever seen that before?"

"So..." Henry asks as the waiter disappears, "do you mind telling me what was up with the eyes earlier?"

"I'm a werewolf. We just do that sometimes. Not a big deal. What's your story?" he says, pointing at the wings.