Pointed as ever, Pickle. But I know. I miss home a lot.
Yes, it must be so very tough being famous and living in London now. Don’t forget I’ve seen the size of your duplex.
And you haven’t stopped taking the piss out of my wine fridge since.
Let’s not forget the jacuzzi bath, the glass stairway. I could go on …I type with a grin. The fact that one of my closest friends now lives in such luxury will never fail to amaze me.
Which is exactly why I’m coming home to see you this time. Me and my flat can’t take any more criticism.
I’m proud of you really. But also, bullshit! You’re coming back for a gig because real people have paid to watch you make jokes. Are you staying with your folks?
Yep, got back earlier and Mum’s gone into overdrive.
Give her a squeeze from me? How long are you back for?
Just the weekend. I start filming again on Monday.
FFS.
Sorry Pickle.
Will they be rolling out the red carpet for you tonight?
HAR HAR. I can ask them to roll one out for my special guest though. You want a plus one?
Yes please.
How is Natalie?
She’s okay, not great. It’s a long story. The ticket’s not for Natalie though. I’m bringing a guy. DO NOT BE CRINGE ABOUT IT.
My screen informs me that Dylan is typing, shortly followed by cheesy GIFs of teddy bears holding hands and rabbits shooting carrots through love hearts. I knew this would happen.
Have you finished?
A love interest?
Don’t mention the “l” word! Bloody hell.
All right! Tell me more …
He’s called Zach, he’s an artist.
Do you want him to paint you like one of his French girls?
Hope the jokes are going to be better tonight. See you later!
I’m about to exit the chat when I panic and hastily add:Please don’t turn it into a big deal. Repeat after me … NBD. It’s really early days and I’m not sure where we stand.
Leadmill at 8 p.m., types Dylan.No Big Deal’s on the guest list.
As I pop my phone away and start munching, I mull over where things do stand with Zach. I’d sworn there were sparks throughout our last date and really thought we’d end it with a kiss, so the awkward high five was kind of a let-down. I’m usually pretty good at reading people but maybe this time I’ve misread the signs and let’s face it, I am no pro in the dating department. Perhaps Zach is just one of those super-hot guys who flirts with everyone? I dip the herbal tea bag in and out of the hot water in my mug absent-mindedly. I guess it would be simpler if Zach just wanted to be mates, though I feel strangely disappointed by the idea.
Throngs of people mill about close to the venue, that familiar hum of anticipation growing louder by the minute as I’m waiting to meet Zach for our third date. Or just-friends hang-out … whatever.
‘Hi,’ Zach says confidently as he appears next to me.
‘Hi!’ I smile back. I’ve never known Zach to wear anything other than dark, loose-fitting T-shirts with rolled-up sleeves but tonight he’s pulled on a lightweight jumper which falls perfectly on his shoulders. I can see the definition of his lean body underneath. His wild hair’s been pushed back and tortoiseshell glasses frame his face. Even if we are just going to end up as friends, there’s no harm in him being so handsome. A friend candefinitelythink their friend is good-lookingamiright?
