She had gone shopping with one of her more stylish girlfriends to find something suitably hip to wear. The corset-style top made her feel almost gothic. She looked like she fit in, she supposed, but she wasn’t used to attending rock concerts, and the loud energy of the place and all the people dancing and jumping around made her feel a little out of place. Still, it was fun. She fingered the laminated VIP pass that hung around her neck and cheered loudly as the band finished another song. The place was packed with screaming fans—but Dave was looking at her as she stood in the wings. He winked and grabbed his microphone as his band started the next rock song. From her behind-the-scenes perch, she could see some drunk groupie pull her bra off and throw it on the stage. Dave picked it up and held it over his head triumphantly and her heart dropped. Of course. Lots of girls probably had the hots for him. But he keeps looking at me.
