He turned up at 1am with Tesco flowers and a speech. Mia let him in. I filmed nothing, which is growth. The group chat the next morning was unhinged. She says she’s fine. She isn’t.
Tag: Sunday
Sophie Opened The Wrong Door
I did shout. Sort of. She still got an eyeful, went scarlet, then made tea like nothing happened. Mia is never letting either of us forget this one.
Her Best Friend Slid In
After I posted the blurry photo. “That’s my mate’s boyfriend.” I typed then deleted then posted the next one anyway.
Mia Brought Him Home Again
Same boy. Third time. He makes better coffee than she does, which is the only reason Sophie hasn’t changed the locks. I give it a fortnight.
Sunday Kitchen Tribunal
Sophie, Mia, leftover pizza, three phones face-up. They made me go through every name from Saturday in order. I did. Then I asked who was taking me out next weekend. Silence.
I Told The Truth At Brunch
They asked how my Saturday was. I said I went home with a man whose name I still don’t have. Eggs went cold.
We Threw A Secret Afters
Official night ended at two. Ours started in the kitchen with whatever was left in the freezer. Ten people. One speaker. The neighbours will survive. Probably.
Someone Used My Good Towels
There are rules. White towels are not for strangers you met at 1am in Shoreditch. I found makeup on the good set and I’m being very normal about it.
I Kept His Lighter
Not as a trophy. As proof I didn’t invent him. Sophie asked why there’s a clipper on the windowsill that isn’t ours. I said it was Mia’s. Mia said it was mine.
He Stayed For The Full English
I didn’t cook it. He did. In my kitchen. Wearing yesterday. Sophie walked in, said “morning”, and put the kettle on like a saint.