Something's wrong...

And almost crack it on the doorframe when you see Emma sitting there, with her back turned, shoulders rising and falling.

You can tell she’s mad. There’s just a bad atmosphere in the room; something dark and smoky, even if she hadn’t kept her back deliberately turned as you shut the door.

‘Em?’ Your voice sounds more confused than anything else, because you seriously have no idea what’s going on.

There’s a long pause before Emma turns round, and when she does, you can see that she’s been crying. ‘Oh, shit,’ you mutter, starting towards her – but she holds up a hand, lips set in a thin, angry line.

‘Were you laughing at me?’ she asks suddenly, and her voice doesn’t sound right; doesn’t sound like her at all. ‘Last night? Were you actually laughing?’

You shake your head slowly. ‘Emma. Talk to me, okay? What happened?’

Emma looks even more pissed off at that – and then she hurls a magazine at you, suddenly. You barely catch it, reflexes still sleepy and confused, but the cover –

The cover snaps you wide awake.

‘EMMA’S TWO-TIMING LOVE RAT?!’ the headline bellows. Splashed below it are twin paparazzi pictures – the first is you with Emma Watson, on her arm at the ball. But the second…

The second is you with Emma Stone, obviously captured on a long-lens, chatting at the coffee shop. Her mouth is frozen mid-laugh, and she’s reaching out to smack you on the shoulder.

When you look up, Emma’s lip is trembling. ‘You’d better have a very fucking good explanation for this,’ she mutters quietly.

‘Oh, Jesus…’ You can see the conclusion she’s jumped to, see it all too well. ‘Okay. This really isn’t what it looks like.’

Emma’s shaking her head, and you can tell she’s holding back tears. ‘What the fuck were you even doing with her?’ she whispers, sounding so betrayed your gut clenches.