"Lydia!" squeals Honey the second I open the door. "How're you holding up?" Before I even have time to answer, she gives me a hug. I smile.

"Yeah, all right."

"Rubbish!" Honey pulls away, her wide blue eyes burrowing into mine.

"Ok. Not great then," I say, and then I'm crying all over again. She comforts me, giving me another hug and basically carrying me over to the sofa.

"It's ok. Let it out," she murmurs. I howl into her sweater. I know that I'm making it all soggy but I don't think either of us care right now, even though Honey's super into her appearance and fashion and shit.

She pulls away, and that's when she notices the flowers on the table.

"Where did you get those?"

"It's a long story." I don't really want to get into it, but I owe it to Honey.

"Well, I'm not going anywhere, you can count on that." Funny. She says she's not going anywhere but Honey always looks like she is. Her long blonde hair is always perfectly teased and styled, she always wears business-like makeup, and at the moment, she's wearing a smart grey jumped which I've been sobbing on and a black pencil skirt, with nude tights and black high heels.

"Ok, so I found them on my doorstep. Like someone knocked on my door, I think."

"Do you know who it was?"

"If I knew, don't you think I would've tracked them down and told them to piss off by now? They didn't sign the card or anything. It's just a weird poem."

"Wow. So you've got a secret admirer? That's actually kind of cool."

"No, it's actually kind of creepy."

"Well, I get that, but come on. Do you think it was a prank or something? I mean, how many people do that, seriously?"

"Yeah, it was probably a prank. Just some kids messing about or something."

"I doubt it."

I frown at her. "What makes you say that? You're the one who just said that it could've been a prank, for Christ's sake."

"Well, for one, red roses are pretty goddamn expensive, and this isn't a posh area. Why would a bunch of kids spend that much money on a prank?"

"Maybe they're deprived. After all, there's not really a lot to do around here."

"Are you kidding? There's shitloads to do."

"Well, in any case, I still think it's creepy." I fold my arms and glare at her. She just grins back at me.

"Yeah, well. Tommy never did anything like that." Tommy is Honey's fiance. He proposed in February, and they're planning to get married in the autumn. Actually, they're pretty sweet together. Tommy's usually really busy with his work (he's an estate agent for a super posh area of Chicago) so they don't always spend a lot of time together, but they're still inseparable. He's been over here a few times, actually, and I've gotten to know the guy pretty well.

"Maybe that's because Tommy isn't a total weirdo creepy stalker."

"Why do you think I'm getting married to him?" She asks, eyebrows raised. She looks so ridiculous that I have to laugh at her.

"I just don't know who it could be. I don't like not knowing things," I continue, pouting.

"Isn't that kind of the point of a secret admirer? I mean, no offence, Lydia, but the clue's in the name."

"I think it's a prank. It's probably one of those assholes downstairs."

"Yeah, that's true." She stops for a moment, and then says," So did anything else happen in your eventful day? I seem to be a missing a lot ever since I moved out." This is true. Honey used to live here. That is, before she moved in with Tommy because she couldn't handle the ridiculous noise that my neighbour produced. For a guy who's so antisocial, he makes a heck of a lot of noise when he's with his friends.

"Nah, not really. I trashed my room a bit." Honey looks a bit confused, so I explain. "Basically, when Brett dumped me, I kind of lost control. Let's just say that my apartment suffered quite a lot because of it."

"I can't blame you. Remember that time when Todd broke up with me? Nothing in my path was safe."

I laugh. That was the crazy summer when neither of us had jobs and so stayed up late every night, getting drunk and high. That summer was a blur, but the one thing I remember was that night Todd, Honey's then-boyfriend, broke up with her. Two nights later, when we were really drunk and very high, we broke into his apartment while he was out and trashed the place. Neither of us actually remember trashing it, we just remember the morning after, when Todd came in to find us passed out on the floor. I'm pretty sure he called the police, but we did a runner and they never caught us.

"Ok."

"I brought food, by the way, seeing as I knew you wouldn't eat, even though I told you to."

"What happened to the obliteration of my soul?"

"I don'y have the appropriate tools to do that. Yet." She produces a small plastic tub out of nowhere. "Chicken casserole. You like, no?"

"Thank you," I say sincerely. I am truly grateful for how well Honey knows me. I take the plastic tub from her and put it in the microwave. I have absolutely no idea whether you should do this with chicken in plastic tubs, because of salmonella poisoning and plastic melting and shit like that, but who the hell cares? While it's heating up, I lay the table for one, with a plate and a knife and fork and everything. I'm always a stickler for laying the table, and I'm not really sure why. Everything just has to look right, I guess.

"This is good," I say, taking a forkful and stuffing it into my mouth.

"That's how you can tell I didn't make it," says Honey. We both laugh. It's true, though it's almost painfully true. Honey can't cook to save her life. I swear to god, she even ruins toast, somehow.

"I just don't get it," I say. Suddenly, I'm not hungry any more. I push the casserole around the plate.

"What?" she asks.

"Why did he dump me? He said that we weren't working, but in what way?"

Honey sighs and shakes her head. "I have no idea, sweetie."

"He's such a bastard." The words feel good on my tongue.

"Harsh."

"It's true!"

"Yeah." She gets up. "Anyway, I really need to go. Tommy doesn't actually know I'm here, and I have-" she checks her phone "- three missed calls from him."

"Oh." I stand up too. "Thanks for coming."

"Any time, Lyds." Then she walks out the door.

I stay where I am. I look at the casserole for a while longer, but I don't really want to eat any more.

Just as I'm washing up my lone plate, there's an almost ridiculously soft knock on the door. It's my neighbour. He's wearing a black leather jacket, a dark green shirt and black jeans. He looks up when I answer the door, and for some reason, he looks terrified.

"Hi," he whispers, licking his lips. He has nice lips, pale but full.

"Hi," I reply, somewhat cautiously.

"I just came to see if you were, um, ok. Because obviously you, uh..." he trails off.

"Yeah. Do you want to come in?" I move across, realizing that I'm blocking the door. He looks rather surprised, but he nods and so I lead him into the living area. He sits awkwardly on the cracked sofa. I sit opposite him. I've had enough of sitting down today, but just standing in front of him looks kind of imposing and I really don't think he needs that right now.

We both stare at our shoes like they're the most fascinating things in the world. He's wearing black sneakers. God, everything this guy wears is either black or dark. Then again, I don't tend to go for light clothing, either. I suddenly realize I haven't even introduced myself. "I'm Lydia, by the way," I offer.

"I know. It's a pretty name." I blush and tuck a lock of red hair behind my ear. He pauses and then says, "Wait, do you know what my name is?" he asks.

"Yeah, it's... um..." I feel terrible.

He laughs. That's probably the first happy sound I've heard escape his mouth. He holds out his hand for me to shake, and I do. His handshake is surprisingly firm, and even though they're almost deathly pale, like the rest of him, his hands are soft and warm. "My name's Patrick. Patrick Stump."

I knew it was something like that. "It suits you." The moment I say that, I instantly cringe. That was not the right thing to say at all. I'm not sure what was, but definitely not that.

"Thanks. Also, I wanted to apologise for yesterday. Pete was being a dick."

"Yeah he was."

"I'm really sorry about that. We were in the middle of something, and he gets really pissed if someone interrupts him."

It's fine. I'm not really upset about it, to be honest."

"That's good."

I decide to change the subject. "Are you hungry?"

"No I just ate." Patrick looks into my eyes. His aren't just deep, they're like infinite whirlpools. Eyes you could get lost in.

"Ok." I feel unsteady, like I'm about to fall over, even though I'm sitting down. I try to look at something else, and so gaze at his left hand, which is resting on his knee. There's something scrawled on the back of it, but I can't tell what it is. When he notices me looking, he quickly puts his hand in his pocket, to hide it, I think. Why?

He stands up. "I'd better go. Joe's coming over to discuss... stuff."

I have no idea who the hell Joe is, but it doesn't matter. "Ok, then."

Patrick looks as though he's about to say something, but then something stops him, and he just nods to me. "See you around." He opens the door, and after glancing back for a moment, he slams it shut and I'm left alone again, wondering what the hell that was about.