“Nice shirt,” Willow is flirting with Bain, the usher. 

Slightly older than her, Bain is a brown-haired man, in his mountaineer uniform, fit for rescuing should someone fall off a tree. The Maican emblem is sewn on his collar to differentiate the orange deliverymen’s Maican pin, from the mountaineers’ symbolization. 

His glazed eyes look deeply into Willow Aria Hunt’s and leans forward. My hand obstructs Bain from moving forward. “The chairs?” ...