Joan sucks in a deep sigh. She hasn't told anyone this, and now she's gonna unload it onto a teenager? But it might actually help the teenager. So. "There was this party-- it was bad. Like the Summertide feast shit, but worse. Everybody was there, and I got-" She still can't say the word, she can't even reference it without turning it into a joke- "I got passed around a lot. They poured booze down my throat. That kinda thing."

Joan shrugs, she sips her tea, she gets on with it.

"A friend of mine-- I ain't telling you her name 'cause it's her business-- got real fucked up. She got- restrained, basically. And I was drunk off my ass, and I-"

A hitch in her throat. You gonna pussy out now, Joanie?

"I f-forced myself on her. And I still wanna fucking stick my head in an oven-" no self pity- "I fucked up. I fucked up. The only thing I can do is- is live with it. Do better."