One quick glance around the room and I realise that I have somehow stumbled into a wannabe serial killer convention. Every single person in the room looks as if they are concealing a weapon of some sort. My heart thuds rapidly in my chest as I sneak past an elderly man who grins lecherously at me, flashing his gold tooth. Oh dear God, I’m going to die!First, I get dumped – on my birthday no less – and now I’m going to get knifed in some seedy bar!

Ah, shit. She’s been crying. This is not good. I swear to God, a girl crying is fucking blackmail. It just makes you feel so damn guilty – no matter if you’ve done anything wrong or not – and have the bizarre urge to make her feel better.

What the fuck is going on Lor? What the hell did you do last night? What did you say to Kacey? Who the hell is Blue Eyes and why is my car spray-painted with the word ‘asshole’?”Spray-paint? Oh dear God, what have I done?

I awake to hear a shower running and quickly stifle a groan.Oh God, my head hurts!How much did I have to drink last night?I slowly prise open one eye and quickly close it again, the light hurts my delicate hung-over state too much.I sigh heavily and try to recall what exactly happened last night.