Fuck. He’s ripped.

…Well, shit.

Holy fucking shit balls damn.

The idea of ‘Justin’ had only circulated vaguely in your brain up until now. You’d been picturing an arrogant, slicked-back asshole without two brain cells to rub together – because seriously, how fucking dumb do you have to be to cheat on Emma fucking Watson, are you kidding – but on closer inspection…

Arrogant, all right. Slicked-back, without a shadow of a doubt – but even as a straight guy, damn, you can tell he’s hot. Savagely, unfairly hot – and not just ripped, although he’s definitely that – but naturally handsome in a way that makes you want to grind your teeth with envy. Stupid wavy dark hair. Stupid lopsided grin. Stupid big soulful eyes. You can almost see why Emma forgave him the first time around.

…Oh, and he had to be a friggin’ underwear model on the side, didn’t he?

You flick through a couple of Wikipedia pages and E! News articles, growing steadily more depressed with each click. Ex-football player, well, sure, because that fucking figures. Gave it up in 2014 due to a leg injury. Stayed on at Princeton, vice-president of his fraternity; was apparently ‘scouted’ by Calvin Klein in his final year, although how the hell you get scouted for standing around with a sock in your briefs is a mystery to you. Doubtless Daddy’s money was involved. Graduated college, ‘a fixture of the NY social scene,’ dabbled in music –

Literally, for fuck’s sake?

This guy models for Calvin Klein, probably never has to buy his own drink at a sports bar, graduated Princeton with honours, and…

And he plays guitar on the side?

(You’re very, very much trying not to think the most profoundly depressing thing of all… that he fucked Emma before you did.

And by the looks of things – just going by the hurt in her eyes the other night – she might even have been in love with him.

Stupid overcooked guitar-playing fucking cunt-muffin.)