Hey man
Seriously?
Hiya
Too chirpy.
Oh hello
Stop copying him.
Oh hi
For fuck’s sake.
Maybe longer messages were better.
I’m great, thank you. Just waiting for another pop star to invite me to a party with a fully-loaded cheese board.
Sounds like you’re referencing a porn film.
I’m good, thank you. Just waiting for another pop star to bring me to a fully-loaded cheese board.
He might not even like cheese.
I’m okay, thanks. Just looking for another fully-loaded cheese board.
Definitely a porn film.
I’m fine.
Something is wrong.
Hi Milo. I’m fucking confused about what you want from me and why I can’t write this piece of cunt message.
‘Piece of cunt’ is a fun turn of phrase and you should be proud of your creativity but it’s not a real one and you cannot use it.
Rose closed the app again, threw her phone across the bed and let out a silent scream into her pillow.
It was 00:05, according to the light on the alarm clock she’d bought when she moved in and still hadn’t worked out how to use as an actual alarm. She opened her laptop and typed, ‘most dramatic ANTM makeovers’ into Google. There was a gallery of 152 images on Cosmopolitan. She started to click through. By 31 – the buzzcuts section – she had fallen asleep.
Rose decided to reopen the message to Milo on her way to work, somewhere in between Pimlico and Green Park. She carefully positioned her reusable coffee cup in between her 30-denier swaddled thighs, checking to see if there was a man sitting in front of her. There wasn’t; the seat was filled by a woman in her mid-thirties reading a copy of Tess of the d’Urbervilles, a book Rose had loved until someone told her it was referenced in Fifty Shades of Grey.
All good, thanks, she typed, directly into the response box, with the new confidence of someone who’d had a seven-hour sleep. Just waiting for another pop star to lead me to a pimped-out cheese board.
She tapped ‘Send’ and locked her phone, zipping it away in the front pocket of her backpack.
The woman in her mid-thirties got off at the next stop, and Rose resumed drinking her coffee with her legs tightly closed.
In the morning meeting, Rose found herself continually finding an excuse to look at her phone. She repeatedly opened up the email app and swiped up to check for any new messages. Then she opened her call history, which was interchanged between Luce and Uber drivers. She started looking through her camera roll and then her online banking app.
‘Rose, do you agree?’ Minnie asked, eyes looking down at her phone.
She looked up. ‘Sorry, um, yes, I do.’
‘What was I asking about, Rose?’
‘Sorry, Minnie. I’m a little tired today.’
‘Do you agree that we should have @cosmoclara open the show?’
‘Yes, that sounds like a plan to me.’
‘Great. Have you pitched to her yet?’
‘No, not yet. I was going to send the email today.’
‘Let me know how you get on. Upstairs are very keen.’
‘Of course.’
They continued talking about the event. Oliver started rattling off the guest list he’d drafted, prompting Minnie to nod in approval. Rose looked back at her phone and opened Instagram to search for @cosmoclara. She had a new message.
‘Rose, Jesus Christ, get off your phone,’ snapped Minnie.
‘Sorry,’ she said, quickly turning it off. ‘My housemate just broke up with her boyfriend, she keeps messaging me.’
Her body burned with the lie. Luce hadn’t sent her a text since this morning (to ask if she had a lighter so she could burn old birthday cards from George).
