Out the corner of my eye, I see Oliver turn his body towards the window. I can see his reflection in the glass. He is staring, obviously in deep thought. I turn towards him, and lean forward, so that I’m right behind his ear. “What are you thinking about?â€? I whisper in his ear. He turns suddenly, a bit startled. “Sorryâ€?, I say apologetically. “That’s okay. I’m thinking about my lipstickâ€?, he says with a grin. I smile at our little inside joke. He turns back towards the window, and I turn to Peter, who is looking at Oliver, smirking. “ Shut up; you wear it too, Peterâ€?, Oliver adds, pointing his finger at Peter. Peter laughs and shakes his head.

Later on that night, I watch them as they perform from my usual place at the side of the stage. I look as Peter whips the crowd up into frenzy with his dynamic stage presence. He is fascinating to watch. However, my gaze mostly rests on Oliver. It’s impossible for me not to watch him. He catches me looking a few times, and smiles at me.