He hated to see her cry. It tore him up somewhere between the top and bottom of his throat, made his lungs burn. His words were eager, his eyes bright...with genuine curiosity. She was being selfish, she sighed audibly, biting her lip before turning to look at him. ‘It was fine, but I think I’m just gunna go home.’ She looked… distraught. It was the face that usually came right before she buried her face in his shoulder and cried. At least if she were going to cry, he could be the one to comfort. We heard the music stop and then the first song of hers came on. I opened the basement door and she began to descend into the basement. I hung back a little so that every eye was on her. As she got about half way down, the first hoots and hollers began. By the time she had made it to the bottom of the stairs, the catcalls were almost louder than the music. It was apparent that these guys had been waiting for her and while they waited had consumed a lot of alcohol. I walked down and saw that. More

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