I groan at the fright which awaits me in the bathroom mirror. My long blonde hair is bed messy and standing up, tangled crazily due to the natural waves I straighten out of my hair religiously. My face looks like I have been face painted as a panda, then stood in a downpour for shits and giggles to let it run off. I have bloodshot eyes and a puffy set of bags under both. I look exactly how I feel.

Pushing open his walk-in shower, I turn it on and then go rummaging for towels and his ...