Pub nights tend to get a bit repetitive, especially towards the break when everyone’s ready to head home for a while. Oliver sits on one side of me, sipping on a beer quietly while I’ve got one arm around India. I busy myself with drinking and a couple cigs until Farleigh trails in, with someone following closely behind.

“Who’s your mate, Farleigh?”

I nod to you, stood nervously beside Farleigh. Fresh faces were always nice, especially pretty ones like yours.