"Well," Quentin hedges, "You're not wrong." He tells it to the paper heap in front of him, still keeping his head down and trying very hard to close his ears to the really obscene sounds coming from virtually every direction, and even some of the other patrons at the tables are starting to look a little out of it. Glassy-eyed and with breathy voices floating through the air. "I mean, I know that people don't actually have as many choices as they claim to? Or, that we close them off, as you say. But. I don't know. It sounds better to say 'free will' than bound to do this thing forever. Even if-- even if the end result is the same."

"Pairing? You make it sound like it's about love and not just a way to get people out of the Down. Or to get them to do things they might not want to, to get out." Always such a positive outlook on life, and Quentin huffs in annoyance. "Well, I hope everyone here finds that and that this whole-- whatever the hell this is? That it just. I can't-- this place is just."

Quentin waves his hand a little helplessly. "It's crap and I don't know why-- why people even go along with it? But. I'm happy for you. That this isn't horrible for you."