As far as anyone knew, it had been some months or more since Rona had last shown anything even resembling romantic interest in anybody. Her usual excuse was that she was simply too busy, especially since becoming deputy editor of the Word: putting the mag together, on top of writing for it, as well as convincing the dole office that she was looking for more gainful employment, left her very little time for anything else. And whenever somebody dared to suggest that really she wasn't doing a huge amount more than anybody else, she pointed out that she also had to make sure that each of her friends got as much attention from her as she could manage - and after all, who needed a boyfriend when you had so many good friends?

Nobody particularly bought it, and thus when she was so upset by the failure of the young man from the record store to appear at Mal's gig, she naturally afterwards - and without her knowledge - found herself the subject of much gossip.

Alain, who was waking up to the fact that he was increasingly on the outer with Rona - not, now, so much because of his actions, but rather because of his inaction in not doing anything about it - relied upon Mal to fill him in. He was naturally concerned about Rona, although he'd be loathe to admit it, and his concern manifested itself in the form of gossipy curiosity.

"So what do you know about this guy?" Alain insisted, after calling Mal and going through the façade of saying hello and asking how he was.

"I dunno, man. He's just some guy." Mal scratched his head. He knew this wouldn't cut it, as far as information went. "He works in some second-hand record store Rona sells all her review C.D.s to, so I guess she must see him all the time. I think she asked him out, but I might be getting that mixed up with something else."

"What, and he just stood her up?"

"I guess so."

"Bastard! Man, we should go in there and sort him out or something."

The thought of Alain fighting made Mal laugh involuntarily. Then the thought of himself fighting made him frown. "Dude, how could we do that? I've never punched anyone in my life."

"Bullshit! You got into a fight with Peter McWhats-his-name in year 5."

"Yeah, but I never punched him."

"Oh, right." Alain was lost momentarily in a sort of nostalgia. "Well we could think of something to do, couldn't we? Isn't Rona's honour at stake, or some bullshit like that?"

"I think she's taking care of it herself."

"Damn, really?" Alain's mind quickly flickered between plans. "Hey, let's go watch! D'you know when it's happening?"

"You mean like, be moral support?"

"Yeah, sure! Whatever sounds good."

"Hmm . . ." Mal thought about this. "Fuck" he concluded, "I don't think I know what shop it is."

"Shit. Couldn't you find out or something?"

"Yeah . . . But, you know, I've got a bunch of other stuff to do, and I couldn't really be bothered . . . You know?"

Alain sighed. "Yeah, I guess so." To be honest, he was feeling the same way himself - he'd been hoping Mal might be more enthusiastic than him. "Oh well" he said, "doesn't matter. I guess I'll hear all about it anyway."