There so is! Here, let me prove it to you in this tantalising snippet:
When Bradley had mentioned that he was going to do something very special for their five-month anniversary of Secretly Doing It Everywhere On Set And Off, Colin, in his innocent and unimaginative naivete, had assumed that they'd maybe share a bottle of slightly less cheap wine, or go an extra round in bed, or possibly track down that elusive cinema that apparently screened undubbed films but that none of them had been able to find yet. What Colin had not expected, and still couldn't quite believe, was that Bradley would barge into his hotel room at an ungodly hour and serenade him with Westlife.
"Bradley. Bradley. Bradley," Colin tried to say over Bradley's valiant, inexplicable attempt at one-man boybandery and determined plucking at what appeared to be -- "Did you steal that from props? Didn't they already put you on notice?"
Bradley gave up on manhandling his lute. "I'm only just borrowing it for a while. Angel won't let me touch her guitar."
"Well, considering that just in the past month, you lost her sunglasses and broke her mobile, I can't say this is a surprising development."
"Those sunglasses weren't doing her any favours; she really ought to thank me. And her phone was one of those -- clam things. They're widely known to be very fragile."
"You dropped it off a battlement."
Bradley frowned at him. "You're not Geoffrey of Monmouth, Colin. You don't need to record these things in minute detail."
no subject
When Bradley had mentioned that he was going to do something very special for their five-month anniversary of Secretly Doing It Everywhere On Set And Off, Colin, in his innocent and unimaginative naivete, had assumed that they'd maybe share a bottle of slightly less cheap wine, or go an extra round in bed, or possibly track down that elusive cinema that apparently screened undubbed films but that none of them had been able to find yet. What Colin had not expected, and still couldn't quite believe, was that Bradley would barge into his hotel room at an ungodly hour and serenade him with Westlife.
"Bradley. Bradley. Bradley," Colin tried to say over Bradley's valiant, inexplicable attempt at one-man boybandery and determined plucking at what appeared to be -- "Did you steal that from props? Didn't they already put you on notice?"
Bradley gave up on manhandling his lute. "I'm only just borrowing it for a while. Angel won't let me touch her guitar."
"Well, considering that just in the past month, you lost her sunglasses and broke her mobile, I can't say this is a surprising development."
"Those sunglasses weren't doing her any favours; she really ought to thank me. And her phone was one of those -- clam things. They're widely known to be very fragile."
"You dropped it off a battlement."
Bradley frowned at him. "You're not Geoffrey of Monmouth, Colin. You don't need to record these things in minute detail."