Fuck that guy. He’s history.

It takes you a while to pull yourself out of the slump that looking up Emma’s ex has sent you into. (The ice cream sandwich helps; as does the random, completely unjustified decision to start referring to him as Fat Justin in your head from now on.)

So Emma liked Fat Justin for a while – so what? He cheated on her. He broke her heart. If he didn’t know he was dumped yesterday, he sure as shit knows it now.

…Also, Emma likes you.

She really likes you. She weirdly likes you. Even though she’s one of the hottest movie stars on the planet, and smart as hell, and surprisingly funny, and incredibly sweet, she actually likes you. A random Uber driver, whose idea of a great date is buying her pizza at 3am.

Still, you think, fucking worked, though, didn’t it?

And it’s that weird but unshakeable conclusion, in the end – the fact that fate has handed you an inexplicable chance with Emma Watson, and you’d never, ever forgive yourself if you screwed it up – that has you slipping back behind the wheel and making your way downtown to the Louis that evening. (You’re not sure exactly when Emma’s press junket ends, but you bet she could use a break.)

Unsurprisingly, you have a hard time getting past the front desk. The receptionist is about as unfriendly as it’s possible to be while still keeping a plastic smile clamped over her face; you reckon she thinks you’re a fanboy, or a stalker, or worse. ‘Please,’ you say, finally, ‘just call upstairs quickly and tell her James is here. If she tells me to piss off, I’m gone.’

The receptionist weighs that for a moment; then, reluctantly, picks up the phone and dials. It doesn’t take long before her eyebrows raise and she looks up at you uncertainly.

‘I’m sorry about the wait, sir. Ms. Watson says she’d be delighted to see you. If you wouldn’t mind taking the elevator, I’ll buzz you up to the fourth floor. First room on the left…’

It takes every inch of self-restraint you have not to grin stupidly as the doors close. Your palms feel suddenly sweaty; Emma’s only meters away now, and even though you’ve seen her naked – even though she’s sucked your dick, for God’s sake – that weird starstruck feeling has yet to wear off.

What if you’re way too early? What if she didn’t want to introduce you to all her entourage of handlers and PAs and who knows what else just yet? What if this is a really stupid idea?