The music started and they both began swaying in a vaguely sixties way, singing the lyrics mostly from memory. They turned toward each other at certain intervals, sarcastically over-singing to one another as they moved around the tiny stage. It was as it had always been, their total comfort with each other becoming a kind of effortless synchronicity. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Danial leaning nearly all the way across their table, saying something to Enzo in a pointed tone. Dev placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back as their voices rose.

“Hey,” the waiter called over across the cramped bar, “calm down!”

“We’re fine,” Danial replied, running his fingers through his hair, now a little slick with sweat.

Paul reached down and grabbed Alex’s hand, his eyes fixed on their group. He gave a quick squeeze, turning them toward the on-screen lyrics and singing that much louder to drown out the scene back at their table.

“It’s okay,” Paul whispered in her ear during an instrumental break. “They’re not going to—”

Before he could finish, there was a loud crash, followed by the sound of glasses breaking and men yelling. By the time she spun around, Danial was on top of Enzo, the two of them landing blows on each other’s faces, punching and kicking in an impenetrable scrum on the stone floor.

“What the fuck?!” Alex screamed, running over to help Dev pull them apart.

Once Danial had been removed, bleeding from a cut on his forehead and breathing in jagged bursts, Enzo came to his feet, rubbing his chin and muttering something angry-sounding in Italian.

“Get out!” the waiter shouted, charging toward their group, “Get out right now, or I’m calling the police!”

“We’re going!” A humiliated Guy was already shepherding the stunned group outside, Bee dramatically crying as Dev put his suit jacket over her shoulders.

“Let me settle the bill,” Paul offered, trying to salvage the last of their dignity. “What do we owe you? Quanto… quanto…” he started in his meager Italian, but the waiter cut him off.

“Get your friends outside and we will handle it,” he insisted, almost pushing Danial as he spoke.

“Okay, okay, we’re going.” Paul was deflated, counting the bills in his wallet.

“What the fuck was that, Dan?” Sophie hissed as she walked past them and out toward the rest of the group.

“I’m so sorry,” Alex said, roughly grabbing a few ice cubes from a glass and bringing them over to Enzo.

“I’m fine,” he answered, covering his face. He pushed her hand away, knocking the ice cubes onto the floor. “Troia.” And before she could offer any more apologies or explanations, he dashed up the stairs and out of the bar, flashing her a look of disdain before disappearing into the night.