“No music,” I whisper back.

- Wow! The girl wants music!

- So, where's my phone?

- There, next to the music center.

A naked man steps with one foot over a sleeping girl. So it remains to stand over her, pressing her bare fingers into the floor of her tossed hair.

- Sat, - whimpers.

- Turn on the radio.

Bass starts to beat from the speakers.

A guy in tight jeans is dancing towards me. He pulls the fabric up on his knees, and, opening his fleshy lips wide, sings along to LJ:

- Baby, you love ripped jeans. O-o-o, o-very ripped jeans.

I shift my gaze to...