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Summary
“She tripped,” he said simply,
“Over what?” Ugh,
“Me,” he replied, knowing at this point that there was no point in trying to beat around the bush, “I was havin’ a rest, and she came in and toppled over my legs. We were both pretty nasty to each other about it until I realized she looked like she needed help…” his words faded as Stuff’s cackling leaked into the air from where she was hiding her face in Thang’s shirt sleeve. Thang himself was chuckling spiritedly, and even Pare looked entertained, shaking his head,
“So who put who on their arse, exactly?” he asked. Bog grabbed another mic cord,
“I thought she was going to break my nose. Luckily all I got was a shove,”
“Did she know who you were while you were lobbing pleasantries at each other? You said she was a fan,” Thang reasoned. Bog shook his head,
“She had no idea. She’s never been to a show before,” he answered sheepishly. Stuff practically squealed,
“That’s so romantic!” Bog blanched. Was it? “So when you came out on stage, she must have looked...?” she trailed off, waiting for Bog to fill in the blanks,
“Absolutely mortified,” he offered.