“Seriously, Bern, help me out. Who isn’t a waste of time?”

Cheryl made a considering face. “Your ex is here. You could always go back for seconds?”

“Which ex?”

“Nick.”

Eden flinched. “I think you mean ‘the party fascist.’”

“Fuck, I forgot about him.” Kieran raised one hand to the roof. “Ladies, Disco Hitler is here! Have the best time ever or prepare for the bayonets!”

Eden lifted her own hand. “Anyone without a drink at any point in the night will be forced to chug Fireball until they die.”

“So not your psycho ex,” Cheryl said, snatching Eden’s hand and shoving it down. “New blood.”

Eden moaned. “Does it have to be new blood?”

“What’s wrong with new blood?”

“The awkwardness. The small talk. That terrible moment when they go down on you and it’s so bad you have no idea whether to fake an orgasm or kick them in the face.”

Cheryl sighed. “If you don’t want new blood, you could message someone. What about Marcus? He made you feel like your bones were melting.”

“He also lectured me on how to tune my guitars.” Eden looked around the room. “Surely there has to be a single dude in the known universe that can make me come and not explain music to me before, during, or after sex?”

Kieran laughed. “You think Francis won’t mansplain music to you?”

“No! He and I are going to have long, mutually respectful careers, co-writing songs and inspiring one another to greater heights.”

Cheryl grabbed her chin. “After you get put on his tour.”

“After I get put on his tour,” she agreed. “So, who should I…” Eden stuck her tongue through her cheek and wiggled it back and forth.

Cheryl groaned. “You’re so lucky your fans don’t know you. Sometimes I think about how many people want to be your friend and hang out with you and this is what you’re actually like.”

Eden tapped her empty glass. “You know what would make this hook up easier? Being back at school.”

Kieran choked on their drink. “Are you serious?”

“I am. It was better when we were at school. You’d go to someone’s house party and drink four Double Blacks, then the cute guy from PE would come up to you all shitfaced, and he’d finger you, and that’d be it. That was the entire expectation.”

Cheryl frowned. “And you… liked that?”

“Yeah, it was hot. Like, ‘we’re gonna grab thirty minutes together in someone’s laundry then go back to the party and dance.’ None of this ‘going home together’ bullshit. Sex was just part of a bigger picture.”

Cheryl nudged Kieran. “If she wasn’t so talented...”

“… she’d still be working at a smoothie bar, wanking off guys who look like the Jokers’ whiny bitch brother?”

Eden scowled. “Hey!”

Kieran ignored her. “So, you want to be, what, Eden? Briefly touched up tonight?”