Along The Watchtower - Pg 187

She imagined Nately smiling over the noise, his Adam's apple sticking out above the crowd, his fuzz of red hair bleached in the spotlights. Lucinda saw him smiling as he listened to the music and found something at its center, something outside language, tumbling into violence, as the song went off the rails and the lead singer of the Sub Plots screamed like a dying bird. The white-hot center -- Nately was there.