He couldn't take his eyes off the young man at the juke-box. It was like watching someone in a 1940s film: the black clothes contrasting with the pale features. The left side of his face was quite badly scarred around the eye and jawline. Still, damaged goods had a certain weird appeal. Like a puzzle it might be exciting to solve. He edged closer to the juke-box, trying to see what records the lad was selecting. The CD collection was a mixture of new chart stuff and classic pop. The scarred boy flicked past Abba, the Supremes and Kylie Minogue without pausing. Evidently straight. He stepped back from the glossy juke-box and glanced sideways at Kevin. His eyes were very dark. Under the poorly-repaired skin, he had good bone structure .... They chatted for a few minutes. The boy's name was Jason. As the bar staff began the lengthy task of persuading the lonely to move on, he offered Jason a lift home. He was looking forward to a preliminary snog in the carpark but Jason seemed so ill at ease that he drove off straight away.