Right from the start, I could tell she was shaken up. She was clinging to her coffee in a way that made it seem like she was afraid it would fall apart if she dared loosen her grip. She seemed numb to the noise of the diner around her, and I noticed as I slid into the seat across from her in our booth that she seemed to be wearing the same outfit as the day before. It didn't look like she had brushed her hair, either.

"You doing okay?" I asked, noticing her pallid face. She looked up at me in silence for a moment, not saying anything. It was unnerving. "You look like hell, Christine. What happened?" She gave a soft, sort of shuddering sigh, and ran a hand through her tangled hair.

"I've…. Had a rough night. " She said, almost glaring over her coffee at me. Given her looks and the tense way she was hunched over her mug, I began to hope with my entire being that it was decaf. She took a long sip of it before continuing, "You know that guy I've been seeing?"

"I thin so… The composer? Erik, right?"

"Yes." She tightened her grip on the cup. I was starting to worry that it would crack under her hands. She looked at me, scarcely blinking as she went on, "Did you ever notice anything odd about him? The way he looks, I mean…"

I thought for a moment.

"Um… Not really." I said, a bit unnerved. I didn't like the way she was starig at me, "I mean I guess he's pretty scrawny and weirdly tall, but…"

She shook her head, looking back down into her coffee again.

"Christine…?"

"I went over to his place for dinner last night." She said.

"Oh my god, he didn't try anything, did he? Like you weren't—"

"No, Meg, I'm fine. " She said, finally relaxing a bit, though it seemed to be more out of exasperation.

"Well then what happened?"

"I… We were talking… Just sort of hanging out… watching a movie, but not really watching, you know." She took another gulp of the coffee, steeling herself slightly, "And he made a joke about my hair… so I went to tease him back, and…" She gave a slight involuntary shudder.

"What happened?" I asked, suddenly realizing that I was leaning over the table to hear her better. She was talking so quietly. She looked me dead in the eye, once again unblinking.

"His nose came off."

"It what?"

"I went to pinch his nose, and it came off."
"Right the fuck off?"

"Right…the fuck…off." Now I knew she was upset. She wasn't objecting to profanity. I stared at her for a moment, my mouth hanging open.

"What….What did you do?"

"WHAT DO YOU THINK I DID, MEG?" She snapped, "He flipped out as soon as it happened, so I grabbed my shit and ran!" she finally let go of the coffee and sat back in her seat, slumped down slightly. I sat, blinking for a moment at this information.

"…It just came off?

"Like a rotten tomato."

"Jesus."

"Don't blaspheme." She must have been feeling a bit better now. I sighed, leaning my elbows on the table.

"Honey, we gotta talk about your taste in men…"