Page 56 of Fractured Frets

Slip: Yes. You in leather mini? Total boner.

Me: I’ll buy one.

Slip: You in nothing? Even better.

Me: You between my legs even better still.

Slip: I’ll book the next flight.

Me: No. Long days ahead. Too hungover.

Slip: Saw your snaps. Big night?

Me: Huge night. Geraldine’s birthday. We had a blast.

Slip: Who’s we? Just the girls from your show?

Me: Yep. Gerry, Lotti, Carmel, and Wanda. And the guys—Kwan, Dre, and Mills.

Slip: Mills? Your on-screen boyfriend?

Me: Yes. Top guy. Fun. Breath stinks like cherry cola.

Slip: The sooner you break up with him on the show, the better.

Me: You jealous?

Slip: I don’t like you kissing anyone other than me. You’re mine.

Me: We’re still just hooking up.

Slip: No, we’re not. Once you finish promo we’re telling everyone.

Me: What about the girl you were photographed with at that club the other night?

Slip: Just a fan. Nothing happened. No kisses. No BJs. Nothing.

Me: What about tour? Don’t you want to be single? Be with other girls?

Slip: Nope. Just you. Haven’t been with anyone else since we met.

Me: Same.

Slip: So, can we kill using condoms?

Me: Whoa. That’s a big step.

Slip: It is. But you’re it, Mads.

Me: Wow.

Slip: You’re on the pill, right?

Me: Yes. Have been since I was 17.

Slip: Cool. I don’t want no babies. Or STIs.

Me: STIs? From me? LOL. FYI I don’t want any of the above either.

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