"You're right. It just -- I think I didn't sleep on the train. I think I died and this is like the hallucination I see during my death cause word for word, it's a lot like fantasies I've had before. A nice guy, really handsome, who doesn't care about any of the many things that get me rejected on a daily basis. Just doesn't feel real." He sipped his drink and wondered, curiously, what chance they stood if this was all real. Live fast, die young and leave others behind didn't seem so fun.

"You're the best thing to happen to me in ... about six months. Maybe more. You beat out the chocolate cake I got for my birthday." Only just.