The band is playing a 50s song.

Ice cream chords.

Doo wop. Doo wop.
     Sha-la-la, dooby wah

     Dum dum dum, yeh yeh, um
Quiff-haired singer

howling into the microphone.

Backing singers

swaying in unison.
And everyone in that place

is dancing…

everyone except for you.
You stand alone

at the back of the hall,

gazing into

the tumultuous dance floor.
And through the maze of revellers

you see her.
Jacinta.
She’s being twirled around

by her new man.
Seconds later,

she lunges into his arms,

but just before she buries her head

into his shoulder,

she turns

and catches a glimpse of you,

standing alone

at the back of the hall.
     Sha-la-la, dooby wah