Jack Rose &
Universal Drinkers

Throughout history, there have often been tales and stories of mysterious and wonderous people who roam the world or partake in a grand quest or mission that they dedicate their lives to. Those people would then be written about and portrayed as either mythical legends or daring adventurers whose lives end peacefully or in a picture-perfect happy ending. This would be one of those tales if it weren’t for our protagonist eventually crossing and irritating a cruel and vile man who would ensure that he got his revenge. Who is this mysterious man of the hour? Who is the one everyone wants to party with? Who is the man that would always make sure that no one could maintain a frown when he was around? Why that would be the charismatic, lucky, and eternally happy drinking savant: Jack Rose.

 

But before Jack rose to the height of his notoriety and that cursed night that would change everything, his life was an interesting one with many experiences, even if it wasn’t carefree. He had to learn how to take care of himself early on in his life due to losing his dad to the Great War when he was young and then losing his mom to consumption when he was only 14. He would start working by shining shoes and selling newspapers, where he would sit on one of the many corners of Market Street in the mornings, learning how to persuade the most stubborn of businessmen to get a shoe shined or buy one of his papers, thinking it was a good deal in the end. When night came with the moon in the sky, he would return to the park and listen to the street performers whose vibrant music filled the air. Furthermore, the grand house parties called to him during the midsummer nights, where he would talk his way into the party and enjoy the finer things in life. He’d learn how to dance from sunset to sunrise, how to act like no one could stop whatever he dreamed of, and how to spin a yarn that would rival even the most skillful of storytellers riding along the Mississippi River. As the years passed, there were two constants regardless of where he worked: his never-ending positivity and his desire to learn more about anything he loved. 

 

Until one day, after a long shift working in a diner, he was approached by a wealthy gentleman who was fascinated by how well he was able to pour and serve any of the drinks offered, and the man asked him if he’d ever bartended before. While Jack had known of cocktails, he’d never had the money to afford any, yet there was something inside of Jack that caught the man’s interest, and he offered a bartending job right then and there, throwing in the training for free, and Jack eagerly accepted the deal. He would work at The Never-ending Night Cap for several years and grow to love the art of bartending and become a talented Mixologist, going to other bars in his spare time to learn even more tricks and complex cocktails to add to his own repertoire. His time at The Never-ending Night Cap would serve as the basis for his future dream to one day own a bar in New York, the gilded city made of hopes and dreams to ensure that anyone could go to it and have a good time, no matter what their station in life. Day by day, he would save and work and save and work; the cycle continued until he started his next quest, riding along up and down the Mississippi River serving drinks and visiting all the other port call towns from the riverboats.

 

Jack’s time spent riding those Riverboats up and down the Mississippi would help him learn about the world outside of his bustling hometown, from the popular ports of New Orleans, Friar’s Point, and Memphis to all the smaller rural places along the river since a good drink can be made by anyone, regardless of what any of the other passengers of higher nobility might have thought. He learned how to mix alcohols of all kinds and what ingredients made the best mixers or chasers, all to perfect his craft so that he would be able to serve anyone, anywhere. Eventually, he would arrive at his next destination, a place that had some of the most talked-about clubs with revolutionary jazz music and new drinks that would wet the whistle of their patrons, Chicago.

 

He would only spend a year in Chicago, but that year would let him earn the last bit of money he needed to complete his dream of opening his own bar; all he had to do was get to that gleaming city first by riding the rails up to New York. From train to train, Jack would learn about the more refined drinks that the onboard bartenders had to learn for socialite travelers who used their services, and how to get the most out of ingredients available, since the trains would rarely be able to refresh their stock when they weren’t on the move. Then, before he knew it, he was exiting his train car with the bustling city in front of him, eager and ready to purchase the building where he would make his life’s work come true. It took a moment to figure out what to name his place; it had to be something that could relate to anyone who walked inside, yet something that wouldn’t sound too outlandish for anyone as well. Then, as if sent to him from his mom above, the name came to him clear as day as an homage to his exploration: The Traveling Ace.

 

The Traveling Ace would grow quickly after its opening days, its popularity quickly spreading across New York City amongst anyone who could hear the news of this upstart from St. Louis, Missouri, that could make whatever you wanted taste as if it were liquid gold. People would try time and time again to get in, with lines that would expand around the block just to have a chance to taste his mystical elixirs or complex concoctions, the names he gave to the drinks he learned to make from his travels. Eventually, Jack realized that to make his dream come true of being available to anyone and to be able to handle the sudden popularity, he would need to limit how many people could visit his bar. What he decided to do in the end was to give invitations by his own hand so that no one could buy their way into the club, each invitation containing the invited individual’s name, and to show how he cared for each of his patrons. The method proved to work out in the end, to the point that even if people might have normally had a problem with their fellow patrons, they were able to put their own qualms aside and respect their fellow guests to increase their chances of being invited back or risk never seeing the stunning decorations or tasting those delicious drinks ever again. Sadly, this is where our ever-positive protagonist would unknowingly cross the man who would call for his death.

 

Andrew Harrington was a man who thought he deserved anything he wanted in life. That with enough money and influence, he would never have to convince people to open a door for him and would be eager to please him with gifts and adoration. So, when he finally heard of The Traveling Ace and the owner, Jack Rose, having made the most revolutionary cocktail New York had seen in years, he needed to have it. He would send people to talk to the owner to get his way in, only for each person to be rejected and turned away enough times that he decided to go looking for the man himself. Andrew was affronted that a newcomer would blatantly ignore him, and when he finally got a hold of Jack, he experienced something no one had ever dared to do to him: Being denied from his desires and then banned from ever being able to drink any of the wonderful creations Jack would make.

 

Jack thought that after he had met and denied the surly man, it would be the end of dealing with the unpleasant fellow, and he could work on his next creation. Unfortunately, Andrew was able to hire a rogue vagabond to play the part of a curious but well-mannered guest who was eager to have a chance to try the drinks at the Traveling Ace, gaining an invitation. The vagabond would then slip a poison into Jack’s drink when he was touring the floor and mingling with guests, unaware that his latest crafted drink, one he named after himself, would be his last. He barely made it to the back room with the drink before falling to the ground, staining the grey double-breasted suit, one he had come to love since getting it in Chicago. He could feel himself growing weaker, seeing his body disappearing, assuming it was just his brain hallucinating due to the pain he felt inside his stomach, until he passed out cold. Jack eventually woke up and screamed upon not being able to see his own hands, the mirror only showing the stained suit in its reflection, and whenever people looked his way, they were scared to see floating clothes in the street with a disembodied voice begging for help.

 

Left with no one able to help him or terrified by his lack of appearance, Jack took what money he had in a safe and left, the bar quickly becoming abandoned with only lingering rumors of an invisible man wearing a suit at the site of the positive bartender that disappeared one night. Time would pass, and he would have a hard time getting used to being seen as either a terrifying sight or an assumed hallucination, but he didn’t let it get to him and kept his spirit high, holding onto his love of drinks to keep his mind from insanity. He still searches for drinks and all of their variations, doing his best to have a good time and silently helping other bartenders with an occasional whispered tip here and there. Other times, if he were feeling daring, he would wear a mask to pretend like he was hiding his face and make the drinks for people himself. Jack would also learn that some could see him briefly, but only if they were very inebriated, letting him use it as a sign to make sure they stopped drinking or were cut off. So, if you ever see a floating suit with a matching hat and glasses, or a man hidden with a mask while smartly dressed, it might just be Jack. Just remember: While drinking with Jack can be a blast, if you start to see his face, then you'd better make that drink your last.