"Happy Pancake Day!" toasted Hamish, clinking glasses with Marc, Charlie, and Kellen.

"I think Pancake Day is my favourite holiday..." decided Charlie, taking a large slurp from his espresso martini.

"Is it actually a holiday?" asked Marc.

"It's definitely a holiday..." decided Charlie. "But, I guess when you're freelance, you don't really get to take the day off."

"Pancake Day is not a holiday!" exclaimed Kellen. "No one gets to take the day off on Pancake Day. The only good thing about Pancake Day is that we get to eat pancakes."

"So, it's not all bad then, is it?" grinned Charlie. "Although I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to finish all of these. Talk about a sugar overload!"

"I thought the pancakes at Breakfast Club would be better than this..." agreed Marc. "These are dry - it's almost as if they've cooked them in advance."

"It wouldn't surprise me..." shrugged Hamish. "This must be their busiest day for pancakes. I think we were lucky to get in before the after-work rush."

"I wouldn't queue here for breakfast..." nodded Kellen.

"Who queues here for breakfast?" asked Mark.

"Lots of people!" said Kellen. "Haven't you seen the queues on the weekend? People wait hours for a table here."

"Idiots..." dismissed Marc.

"Did I tell you I saw Volleyball on the weekend?" asked Kellen.

"Wait, what?" gasped Charlie. "Volleyball? Where? Did you speak with him?"

"He messaged me - out of the blue..." explained Kellen. "He asked me to come and pick up the clothes that I'd left there."

"Rude..." said Charlie.

"I wasn't sure what sort of reception I was going to get..." explained Kellen. "But it was good to see him. He's a nice guy."

"Would you get back with him?" asked Hamish. "If, you know, that was on the table."

"Well, it definitely wasn't on the table..." clarified Kellen. "But, yeah - I guess so. He's one of the few exes that I can actually sit down and have a conversation with. That's got to be worth something."

"Plus, the sex was good, right?" added Charlie.

"The sex was amazing!" nodded Kellen. "Definitely up there with the best I've had."

"What made it so good?" asked Marc.

"I don't know..." shrugged Kellen. "It just all sort of worked. It was easy. I was really into it."

"Better than Irina?" asked Charlie.

"Wait, Irina?" asked Marc. "Who's Irina?"

"He means Vadim..." explained Kellen. "The Russian. Charlie always suspected that he was some sort of Russian spy and so gave him a code-name."

"He had three bathrooms!" exclaimed Charlie. "A fuck-off one-bedroom flat with three bathrooms. None of that makes sense!"

"For the record, the answer is no - Vadim was completely different to Volleyball..." clarified Kellen. "Volleyball was a proper sexual connection, whereas with Vadim it was just like being totally violated - like I was just something to be used for his sexual gratification."

"Hot..." nodded Charlie.

"Whatever happened to Vadim?" asked Hamish.

"I don't know..." shrugged Kellen. "After a while, he just sort of disappeared."

"Ghosted?" asked Marc.

"I told you..." shrugged Charlie. "Total double-agent spy. Three bathrooms! Ridiculous."

pile of cookies with cinnamon sticks
Photo by Caitlin Greene / Unsplash

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