Kelvinhall

Chloe

I don't really know what I was expecting Nat to look like. Possibly not dissimilar to me?

In reality though, we couldn't be more different.

How do I describe Nat?

Okay, so if this was "Love Island", she would come in as the ultimate bombshell and disrupt every safe couple with one perfectly aimed smile. She's small and "curvy" . . . You know, in the frustrating way the media describe people like Kim Kardashian. She has long wavy red hair, bright blue eyes and freckles and she is so bloody hot it's unfair. She's dressed in top-to-toe black: figure hugging leather leggings, black boots, black vest top. No adherence to the theme, but maybe Michael never told her what it was.

Except I know he would have, because he's Michael and would do anything and everything he could to make sure she would fit in.  He's thoughtful that way. (I mean, apart from thinking it was remotely appropriate to invite her in the first place!)

Maybe, I can't help but think - restrospectively once I realise who she really is, of course - she planned to dress like a villain.

She grins around the group, flashing gleaming white teeth, and there's nothing to indicate the smile is anything but friendly, but I immediately get bad vibes. Perhaps it's just jealousy on my part though.

Michael definitely traded up when he landed her, that's for sure.

Suddenly I realise how quiet the group is as a whole compared to the rest of the bustling pub. There's something weird in the air, the atmosphere loaded with tension. I glance around and notice Becky, Luke and Liam all look completely blindsided.

But it's Alex, who is also wearing a similar expression, who steps forward first. "What are you doing here?" He blurts out.

Nat blinks in what seems to be surprise. "I'm here for Michael." She walks towards him. "What are you doing here, brother dearest?" She asks, throwing her arms around him.

Alex is Nat's brother?

Which makes Nat . . .

Tasha.

I shoot another glance at Liam. His eyes are locked on Nat and they are burning. I can't identify the emotion and it makes me uneasy.

"I'm friends with these guys," Alex explains, smiling. His smile seems a bit off, I can't help but notice . . . But Alex, in my opinion, has been a bit off in general today so that's nothing new. "You know that."

"What a weird coincidence, I had no idea Michael was friends with you all too!" She looks around. "Becky, Luke . . . So nice to see you again! Liam . . ." She virtually purrs while I barely hold back a proprietary growl. "Long time, no see."

"It's only been about two months since i last saw you," he snaps.

"Nice to know you're keeping track," she says smoothly. She then looks directly at me, extending a toned, tanned arm. "I don't think we've met, you're . . .?"

"Chloe." I bite out. I fear my smile is similar to that one I terrified Lola with because I feel like I'm having some sort of out-of -body experience right now. Her perfectly manicured hand is icy cold, and I can see her eyes are too. This smile definitely isn't friendly.

"Ah, so you're the ex!" she exclaims.

As are you, I feel like saying. But right now, it somehow seems important that she doesn't know about me and Liam.

It was going to be weird enough meeting my ex's new girlfriend. Her turning out to be gorgeous hasn't exactly helped, but the fact she's also Liam's ex, the one who in his own words, did a number on him, has just made it about fifty million times more awkward. Especially when I'm just starting to develop feelings for someone other than Michael for the first time in so long.

When did my life turn into a bloody soap opera?

Poor Michael. He is even more confused than I initially was. He still isn't quite aware of the dynamic yet. He hasn't yet connected the dots to realise Nat/Tasha is Liam's ex but, to be fair, no one has given him the pencil.

Tasha - nope, I cannot call her Nat now I know her true identity - immediately turns to make sure he's clued up. "This might be a wee bit awkward," she winces at him. Wow, her acting is . . . over-the-top. "But me and Liam used to go out."

The colour drains from Michael's face. "Oh." He doesn't seem to be able to say anything else. Like me, he's not really equipped to deal with this level of social drama. Our natural instinct is to metaphorically drop to the ground and commando-roll away out of such situations. Which is probably why we lasted as couple for so long.

And here I thought Lola leaving had put an end to the chaos.

I almost wish she was still here - I have a feeling she would be most capable of diffusing the bomb Tasha has lit.  I mean, she'd probably dare us all to have a mass-kissing session, or have us hold hands and sing a soothing hymn, but at least we wouldn't all just be staring awkwardly at each other.

"Uh - let's go get you a drink," Michael finally speaks again, leading Tasha away. Alex follows them.

I find myself shuffled together with Becky, Luke, Claire and Liam.  "What the fuck?" Becky says quietly.

We're standing in a weird formation, all facing the bar but huddled together in a tiny group, talking out the sides of our mouths to each other. It would probably be prime sitcom fodder, I can't help but think. Trapped inside the scenario though, it's not so amusing.

"This can't just be a coincidence," Luke states, his face grim. "I'm sorry, but there's absolutely no way Tasha and Michael are a genuine thing. He is definitely not her type." He looks at me apologetically. "Sorry, but . . ."

"I know," I bat his comment away, completely agreeing with it. Michael is a nice guy, a good looking guy, and he knows how to treat a girl . . . But I feel like I already have the measure of Tasha enough to know she would never fall for him. I'm actually quite amazed Liam was even her type - now I know him better he seems too sweet for her too - but he possesses a steely edge that Michael most definitely doesn't.

"We need to get to the bottom of this," Becky spits out. She drains her drink and marches towards the bar too.

I've been trying not to look at Liam throughout this exchange but I suddenly feel his hand on my back. He ducks his head forward and whispers. "Are you alright?"

"Are you?" I tilt my head back towards his.

"Yeah." His breath is tickling my ear and catching the side of my neck and it's making me feel . . . well, it's probably wrong to say turned-on when both of our exes are mere feet away but it is what it is. "I just wish she wasn't here," he chokes out bitterly. "Her timing is pretty much impeccable as usual though."

And suddenly I can't help but wonder if he's really over her.

What is Tasha playing at?

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