G isn't sleeping or eating. She's completely and utterly miserable, and probably only making it worse by forcing herself to hang out with mutual friends and seeing her ex-boyfriend constantly. She refuses to give up pub trivia nights she's been attending for years just because her and her boyfriend broke up. It's certainly not helping her get over him. Especially since they both seem to fragile to inform some of their friends that they're actually broken up and some of them even make jokes assuming they are still together. Awkward. She then goes home and cries herself to sleep. A doesn't know what to do.
She tried dragging G out with herself, J, M and L for Halloween because we all love drunken dress-ups. Even better when it comes with live music. A was in zombie gear, bumming cigarettes with no shame whatsoever and trying to chat up guys for G. Unsurprisingly, G was not interested. She didn't even make an appearance in the mosh pit. Too busy worrying about crushing her faiyr wings. L went home early to study, while M kept conversing with randoms about all her new Ikea furniture. In particular an easel she bought that she thinks is super cool and cheap.
J bumped into 'the one' and his surprisingly attractive girlfriend. Okay, perhaps not surprisingly as 'the one' isn't bad-looking, in fact he's quite good-looking and also has an English accent, it's just that he reeks of desperation. They were acting all coupley and cuddling in a corner but 'the one' was quick to jump up and hug J and spent so much time chatting to her his new girlfriend went to the bar and was gone for about half an hour. 'the one' didn't even seem to notice until J pointed out she thought his girlfriend had cracked the shits. He went to go find her and they left soon after. J then went to go chat to the hot guitarist who had flicked his pick at her after the set, but it turned out he was the designated driver and was taking the rest of the (wasted) band home. He told J to look him up on facebook but she didn't bother. She considered the whole thing a waste of her cat costume.
The next morning was all about rinsing fake blood (from costumes) and real blood (from jumping off the stage) off our skin and eating kebabs. Except for G, who was just moping around the house. A suggested she go drop by footballer's place but the look G gave her suggested she drop dead. Whatever. Nothing makes an ex jealous like an affair with a footballer.