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Chapter 62 by TheOptimisticDuck TheOptimisticDuck

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Start making friends!

‘All right?’ you ask the guy handling the prawn dip. (At least, you think it’s prawns; it’s definitely pink and there are bits floating in it, but no doubt the catering tonight cost more than your rent for the month.) ‘How’s the party going?’

The guy looks up, surprised. He looks like a surfer, dark-skinned with dreadlocks, even if right now they’re pulled back neatly into a bun. ‘Not too badly, sir,’ he replies. ‘Can I interest you in some crevettes décortiquées?’

You blink. ‘Um, sure. Sorry. This is kind of my first fancy night out. Remind me what that thing you just said is again?’

The guy visibly relaxes. ‘Peeled shrimps,’ he chuckles. ‘That’s it. And by the way, you’re not the only one who’s asked us to translate. The French labels are a pain in the ass, if you ask me.’

‘Maybe they think it makes it taste better,’ you say wisely, as the guy ladles shrimp onto your plate. ‘Or maybe they’ve just worked out they can charge twice as much if they say it with an accent.’

The guy’s lips quirk into a smile. ‘I think you might be onto something there, mate.’

‘How many of these have you done now?’ you ask, spearing a shrimp. The guy hums, trying to work it out, and you realise you haven’t asked his name. ‘Sorry – what’s your name, man?’

‘André.’ The guy smiles again, and it’s relaxed and genuine. ‘Nice to meet you. And as for how many… Jesus. This’ll probably make – thirty-something?’

‘Wow,’ you say, popping the shrimp into your mouth. It’s good – a bit over-enthusiastic with the spices, maybe, but good. ‘Okay, who’s the most famous person you’ve ever met?’

André laughs. ‘Easy. Matthew McConaughey. Really nice guy, and he wasn’t too impressed with the French food, either.’

‘Ah, shit, I’m jealous,’ you say, mouth full. André cocks his head, confused.

‘Hey, sorry for asking, man, but… you new in town? I’m just not sure I recognise you. I mean, that doesn’t mean shit, I don’t recognise loads of people,’ he goes on hurriedly, ‘but I just figured, you have to be a big-time celebrity to even get an invite to one of these parties. And Matthew’s kind of a fixture around this town, so I figured…’

‘It’s cool, it’s cool,’ you say, putting your hands up. ‘I’ll let you in on a little secret. Truth be told, I’m not actually a celebrity.’

André looks surprised and impressed. ‘You’re a gatecrasher?’ he asks, out of the corner of his mouth.

You laugh. ‘Not exactly. Feels like it, though. I’m somebody’s plus one.’

André’s expression clears. ‘Right…’ Then he looks curious. ‘You mind if I ask who?’

You feel an irrepressible grin stretching over your face. ‘Sure. You see the girl standing by the ice sculpture?’

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