Tink grabbed both hands to stop me.

I looked into the worried eyes of my best friend. “But why that song if he doesn't want me? I didn’t know what it all meant, and then he shouted at me and told me ‘we were nothing’ and that he never wanted to see me again, said I’m not his type,” hiccup, “… and, and then I came home and got this bottle –”

I reached for the now near-empty bottle of booze and put a hand on my head, “Hey! Where did all the amaretto go?”

I began looking under my bed to see where the pesky liquid had run off to.

Oops! I fell off the bed and onto the floor with a thud. “… Anyway, I came home and Mr. Amaretto and I made friends and had a little party for two.”

Tink stroked my hair and I pushed out my bottom lip in sorrow. “I tried to get away from thinking of him but he was all over the internet. If he was a normal person I could easily forget, but his first name got three million results alone, three million! So, I decided to erase him, scribble him out,” hiccup “... now he is nothing too. Just like me.”

Tink turned away, trying to quell his fury and the vein on his forehead began to protrude. “Tate!!!!” he screamed, sounding remarkably like a strangled cat. I just laughed until my stomach began to ache.

He faced me again. “Ham roll, I don’t understand what happened, what song? You’re talking nonsense. Did you tell Tudor you liked him?”

Tate came running into the room at that moment and saw the mess on my bedspread and carpet. He picked up the pictures one by one, his face full of horror.

Tink lifted me up on the bed, and spoke to his lover. “Get him on the f**king phone now!”

Tate put his hands out. “Tink, wait, I can’t call him for you. What the hell happened? What’s wrong with, Tash?”

“He screwed her over, just like I knew he would! We all saw that he liked her, and we all knew he’d do something like this. Now I’ll ask again, get him on the bastard phone, now!” he commanded.

Tate headed back to Tink’s room, looking slightly unsteady on his feet, and returned seconds later scrolling through his phone, holding out a hand in a placating manner.

“Let me speak to him first, please. I’m not allowed to give his number out, it’s in my contract. This is way out of my job description.”

Tink turned a bright shade of red. “You have ten seconds, Tate. I mean it. I'm so friggin' angry with him.”

I flipped on my side and put my hand over my mouth to muffle the hysterical giggles cascading out of me, causing the paper to crackle under my weight. Tate was pacing the room, running his hands through his hair and glancing up at Tink, who was still as a statue beside my bed, radiating pure rage.

Tate held the phone to his ear. “Tudor, it’s me. Listen, erm… I’m at Tink’s. Tash is in a bit of a... situation and Tink wants to speak to you… erm… she’s had a lot to drink and is not doing too good.”

Tate winced listening to Tudor’s response.

Tink, in his fury, stormed over to his boy-toy and snatched the phone out of his trembling hands. “You total arsehole! I warned you! I told you not to do this to her!” he yelled down the phone.

Wait! He did? When?

“What the hell have you said? She is a mess and keeps talking about a song, and saying you called her nothing. How could you?” he shrieked, his voice inching up an octave.

I could vaguely hear Tudor raising his voice in response on the other end of the phone. I couldn’t take the fighting. I had an idea.

As quickly as Natasha-possible, I catapulted myself off the bed and snatched the phone out of Tink’s hand, ran to the bathroom and locked myself in.

I was still laughing at my scheming when I began to look for the quiet voice saying ‘Tash’ that I could hear coming from somewhere in my en-suite. I looked under the toilet seat – maybe it was a gnome? I looked behind the shower door – maybe a leprechaun searching for his lucky charms? But nope, it was nowhere. Oh! Duh, it was the phone, silly drunken me!

“Helloooooo???” I sang into the mouth piece.

“Tash?” Tudor sounded relieved.

Tink was now hammering on the door, but I wasn’t going to open it. No, sir-ree! I made myself comfortable on the toilet seat.“Mr. North, how nice to talk to you again. How are you this fine evening? Still a cold-hearted bastard with no regard for anyone’s feelings?” I inquired.

“Tash, please don't. What have you had to drink? I don’t know what to say,” he sounded upset.