"Hey, Phoebe. You all right?" Quentin glanced sideways at his fellow bandmate.
"I'm fine. Let's just do this, okay?"
"You sure? Cuz if you've got something on your mind, you know you can talk to me, right?"
"Really, Quentin. I'm fine. Just having a bit of an off day. That's all." Phoebe smiled slightly. There was no way she could tell him what was really bothering her, that she was madly, deeply, head-over-heels in love with him.
"You know I'm here for you if you ever wanna talk."
And she did want to talk. She wanted to spill her guts and tell him exactly how much he meant to her. She wanted to proclaim her love from the highest mountaintop.
"Seriously, Quentin. You worry too much, you know that?"
"Hey. That's what friends are for right?"
"Can we just get on with band practice sometime before I die of old age?"
"Whatever you say, Phoebe. Whenever you're ready, I'm here for you."
