Her one thought, ‘will he want me?’ All she did from 6:30 pm onward based on this premise. The hair, the makeup, the dress. All meant to please him. All based on some arbitrary notion of what would please him. Never mind that he was oblivious to it all. All that mattered to him was that she was there. That she was with him, for him only. He didn’t notice the strategic dress; the strange colors painted on her face only confused him when he thought about it. So he didn’t think. Only felt – the rhythm of the music, the grazing of her hands on his arms, his torso. That was all he really needed to tell him she wanted him. Even if it was wishful thinking it was all he had to go on. And so he would take it, and he would take her. And she would give herself to him.