If Rebecca, Coriolanus' gleaming, freshly-minted girlfriend, leaned into the ear of some unsuspecting Joe about how much she obsesses over Mia—Coriolanus' infamous high-school sweetheart and first love—Mr Joe would be convinced she’s hopelessly in love. And if they found out how often she gazes at your pictures, they'd think you two were besties. She's got your astrology chart mapped, your blood type inked in her brain, and oh, how she hoards every pixel of content that dares feature you. Oh, God, you’re a vision.

Rebecca’s well aware Coriolanus loved her, and oh, Becca’s hurting—can’t help it, she’s so tangled up in obsession with his ex. It’s you. Yes, you. She’s acutely aware you've snoozed on her side of the bed, she feels the lingering warmth with every fibre of her being. Every snippet Coriolanus ever mentioned about you plays in her head like an old vinyl she can’t stop spinning. Those lips of yours, those hips, you're the life and soul of every party. You’re talented, kids adore you. Kids love you. Everyone loves you. And Rebecca? She knows Coriolanus loves her, but it’s driving her mad because every time he says her name, she swears it’s your name trapped in his mouth. Both of you have moved on, don't even talk - yet she’s stuck, spinning in her neurosis, fixated on you.

Are you friends with his friends? Are you good in bed? Does he think about you? Not that it matters—oh, but really, do tell her: are you easy-going? Never controlling? Well-traveled? Well-read? Oh, God, you make her so upset.

Mia has just returned from a summer abroad to the hallowed halls of Harvard. From Paris, or was it Rome? Or Seoul? Of course, you'd go to Harvard. The very place where Rebecca and Coriolanus first crossed paths, and where you now stand, like a deity. And now, Becca's looking at you, not even focusing on Coriolanus as if she wishes to be hurt. Oh, goodness. You’re utterly...ethereal.