I keep a hand firmly clamped over my head as Van pulls me through the room. There are catcalls and shouts and people making kissing sounds. Someone starts singing the chorus to Taylor Swift’s “I Knew You Were Trouble.” Van slows, and I hear the sound of a door being pulled open. “You’ve got a nice voice,” I call. “I think the more appropriate song, though, is ‘But Daddy I Love Him.’”
