We're lonely dancers, join me for the night.

It was torture. You brought your boyfriend with you to this place called the hideout, sometimes you just hung around the bar. The two of you had been rocky for a while, but you were trying. Trying your best, but it wasn't enough. So in an explosion outside, with a cigarette between your lips, he left. Broke it off.

We're lonely dancers, baby, dance with me so we don't cry.

In Eddie's situation, he was at the hideout, and...saw his girl on some other guy's lap. She went home with him, instead, so Eddie was drinking his worries away, trying not to cry. He went out for a smoke, and saw you. The music was muffled, but you both heard it.

"You...okay?" he asked gently, beer in his hand. You were on the floor, eyes watery, probably not the smartest with the glass shards a foot away. He was gonna kick himself tomorrow, but...

"Wanna dance?"