She has been in training for just a few months, but she is showing incredible talent."Again hand palms touched in the dark. Now they even mingled with...low, breathy whistles. He turned towards the table again and almost whispered:"Que la fête commence..."The orchestra plunged into a dark and melancholic suite unknown to Angique. It was dominated by a cello's vibrant sadness and the low throbs of the drum. The strange, strange music moved her almost to tears. It strummed at the strings of her. I asked why, but he just said, “I’ll text you” and kept walking. I got my drink and went back to my seat. My friend David, who could never leave anything alone, asked what was wrong with me. “Nothing,” I said “just thinking about something.” He laughed. “You’re not thinking about something, you’re thinking about someone. I can see your nipples through your shirt, dumbass.” I punched him. I did that a lot. But he was right. I tried to find my cop in the crowd, but he had disappeared. It was. More

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