You’ve known him for five years; since you were twenty-one, you were familiar with your close friend’s, Megumi’s, dad, Toji. Every other girl was fawning over him, but you only started doing it six months ago. You’re twenty-six, and he’s 44.

“Need a ride?” He pulls up to the outside of the club where you’re smoking, cheeks stained with mascara after crying. “Why are you cryin’?”