"Is your girlfriend going to mind that I'm stealing you away for a little while?" She walked with her face tipped up towards the sun, enjoying the warmth on her skin.
"None of us are from around here. Most of us grew up near Albany, New York. I was going to college there -- a music major at Saint Rose -- when Mickey fell into me. It's funny how life changes like that. One minute you're dancing around the living room happy that no one's home to see you acting like an idiot, the next you're waking up in some guy's bedroom with voices and music in your head and a big mental post-it note apologizing and telling you that oh by the way, you aren't real."
It wasn't quite like that. The note had been real, physical, and left there where she could see it and addressed to girl whose name I don't know and just in in case you wake up. But it sounded simpler this way.