Going Back to 505 (Sequel) | Brad Simpson [DISCONTINUED]

2. "So you made actual friends?"

The first morning in my new room begins a great deal earlier than I had planned it to. My slightly hung-over body recoils further under my duvet at the sound of a loud buzzing that persists for at least two minutes before I accept that I'm not going back to sleep and clumsily grab my phone from beside my bed. The cheeky grin of Brad's contact picture mocks me as it flashes on the screen but ultimately, I'm happy to see it; I just wish I was seeing it in three hours from now.

I press the answer button and simultaneously; I realise that it's a FaceTime call and not a regular call where my tired morning face would be hidden from sight.

Fabulous.

"Finally" Brad grins in amusement as his live face appears on my phone screen.

It's genuinely unfair how attractive my boyfriend is all the time. I don't think he has a bad angle. I'm fully aware that whatever angle my face is being displayed at right now is terrible but this early in the morning with zero makeup on, there aren't many good angles

"You took your time answering"

"That's because I was asleep," I deadpan, pulling my duvet up and hiding most of my face, "you realise that it's 9am in England?"

"Oh, I thought it was around 10" he muses, before he shrugs, "still, 9 isn't that early"

"It is when you haven't slept much" I mutter, narrowing my eyes at him.

"I'm sorry" he pouts, "I can call you later"

"Nah, I'm awake now," I say, rubbing my eyes, "I might nap later"

"How was yesterday?" He asks.

"It went better than I thought it would actually" I answer, before I add dryly, "I didn't get called a bitch at any point so I'd say it was a success"

"What are your flatmates like?" he queries, ignoring the last part.

"They seem decent, one lad seems like he can be a dick and I'm certain we'll fall out at some point but hey ho, nothing I can't handle"

Brad listens intently as I provide him with a brief rundown of my five new flatmates and our night of drinking at the student bar yesterday.

"So you made actual friends?"

"I guess" I nod, though I've barely known them for twenty-four hours so maybe it's too early to say if they're 'friends', "my dad gave me fifty quid for alcohol so I bought everyone drinks; that probably helped"

"You are more likeable than you like to make out you are, you know" he smiles knowingly. I shrug.

"How's the Philippines?"

"Beautiful"

"I wouldn't know" I comment.

"I'll bring you one day" he adds sweetly.

"You look like you've got a tan already" I point out, a little jealous.

"We went to the beach today, it's our only day off for the next week" he explains, "you'd love it here"

"Well, I'm stuck in sunny London," I declare sarcastically. I haven't opened the curtains but I can already hear the gentle rain pattering against my window.

"What's your room like?" He asks, before smirking wildly, "have you put all your Brad Simpson posters up yet?"

"Not yet" I retort, "got my cutout though" I tilt my phone to show him Cardboard Bradley's place at the end of my bed. He snickers with glee.

"If you squint, it's like I'm actually in the room" he grins, "have you introduced him to your flatmates yet?"

"God no" I scoff.