And he had forgotten. Bastard. Down saw the look that bruised her face, and sensed the abrupt mood shift from comfortable geniality into disappointmen... and inner-hurt, and he had the good grace to be ashamed of himself. George was the closest thing he had to a Good Reason For Staying Alive For Another Day (he really did think like that–in capitals), and though he often caused her pain and distress (he was her boyfriend, it was his duty), he never did it deliberately. ‘I’m sorry. I really am…’. I went stumbling into some people who spilt their drinks.“Watch it” one of them cried out.“You fucking bastard” Greg roared and almost like on cue, the music cut out. “You fucking dare touch my girlfriend?!”“It wasn’t like that” I tried to tell him. “You had your filthy hands all over her!” He shouted as he stepped towards me. Again I held my ground because I wasn’t a coward or a pussy.“I had barely been near her, she danced with me!”“That you calling her a whore again?” He said as he took a. More

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