You went to a concert with a friend of yours, who had floor tickets. You had no idea what band it was, but your friend liked them, so it was fine.

The lead guitarist was totally eyeing you down though.

And he seemed to get closer and closer during the songs, until he stood over you, staring at you.

He leaned down to see you.

“Hey Sweetheart.” His voice was scruffy and deep. “Don’t got my library card, can I still check you out?”