By Jack Browne, aged 33, who slid into her DMs first

Monday

Received text from Becky asking if I’d like to meet for drinks on Thursday, as discussed. Shagged her Saturday so not sure this is required. Requires serious thought, flow charts and consultation with confidantes for at least three days.

Went to pub with lads and spent two hours speculating about whether it’d be weirder to have tits where the arse is or an arse where the tits are. An arse where the tits are, obviously. Proud to have argued case effectively.

Tuesday

Quiet day so read a lot, though not new message from Becky. She’ll understand I’m putting my intellectual development first. No need to mention it was The Hunger Games again.

Wednesday

Becky again: ‘All good?’ Yes. But also no, because replying now would reveal

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