who: open @championstarters
where: the dugout
beau had somehow spent the last hour becoming everybody's unpaid security, therapist, and designated "you're not actually singing that drunk, sit back down" person. he wasn't entirely sure how it happened, probably because he looked responsible enough for people to start handing him problems automatically. leaning against the bar with a beer in hand, sleeves rolled to his forearms, he watched as somebody near the stage missed an entire chorus with dangerous confidence. the crowd still cheered anyway. a slow shake of his head left him, amused despite himself. "starting to think this fundraiser's about to financially recover the little league entirely off emotional damage alone."











