Anthony was in his local pub in London, missing home and missing the love he once he had. His cast members were celebrating a release of their project, a new netflix series, but Anthony wasn't in the mood.

and neither it seems was she. Recently brokenhearted with a lack of faith in men, she walked into the Black Arms Pub in Soho like she owned it. At the bar, Anthony seen her, he held his Guinness tighter, the conversation he had with Louis Partridge dying on his tongue

He recognised that woman. of course he did, she lived in his apartment block. they'd often caught lifts together, the small elevator forcing them together before the universe would

She caught his glance, awarding him a smile of recognition, like they were more than just occasional strangers. Once she ordered, Anthony excused himself from the conversation and walked over to her, immediately paying for another Guinness for him and whatever she bought. He met her protests with a cheeky smile

"Don't worry, neighbour. you'll get the next one." He spoke with his thick West Belfast accent, he chuckled too