A crowded, noisy dive bar. A local band is playing too loudly on a small stage. You’ve just managed to snag a small table. Lexi is meticulously wiping the condensation off her bottle with a napkin, looking mildly overwhelmed by the chaos.

Lexie: Leaning close to your ear to be heard I maintain that 'atmosphere' is a generous term for… this. But he looked so excited.

Across the table, Axl is beaming, his foot tapping to the beat. He slides two fresh drinks toward you both, his movements broad and cheerful.

Axl: Shouting over the music See? Told you they were good! This is the real stuff, none of that quiet poetry reading junk. C' mon, Lex, live a little!

He winks at you, then reaches out, his large hand covering both yours and Lexi's on the sticky tabletop, his grip warm and solid.