After coming straight from Los Angeles into London on a 10 and a half hour flight and meeting Jack who was having his own journey down from the North, the pair decided to get a hotel in the heart of the city in order to rest up before hitting the town. Although only meeting in the flesh a handful of times, the guys have built up quite the bond and remain in contact almost daily with all sorts of banter and links being shared through messages. Jack's friendship has been a breath of fresh air for Riley and their little drinking get togethers have become a highlight. Despite his status, Riley is still a very grounded, "regular" lad who just so happens to have a very irregular job. While he knows many nice people within the industry, a bunch of them still carry that celebrity aura. Many of them love and fully throw themselves into that lifestyle or grew up living and breathing the whole stage school, silver spoon life. Riley much prefers to crack open a few beers, watch a footie match and play some PlayStation. It's something he had with his Weekend boys before everyone splintered off and started living their own lives across the globe. The friendship with Jack scratches that normalcy itch and he also gets to watch this immense new talent flourish into the bargain.

Riley suddenly wakes up with a startle, coming out of a much needed deep nap with a little confusion. The room is in total darkness aside from the light of Jack on his phone over on the right. Riley clears his throat and takes a moment to centre himself after awaking from his slumber. "I wasn't snoring or cracking off, was I?" Riley asks with a laugh knowing it's a high possibility as he's a prolific audible snoozer. He feels around in the dark, slipping his hand under his pillow to grab his phone. He screws up his eyes as the light from the screen violently attacks his corneas. 21:20. Plenty of time to hit the town and make a great night of it even though the dark November nights would have anyone believing it looks more like 3 a.m. "You been up long, pal?" Riley asks while simultaneously yawning.

"A sound sleep, ey?" Riley cocks his leg and violently lets one rip as tradition, wafting his covers in Jack's general direction. "That should make up for it." Riley laughs and props himself up, reaching across to turn the dimmer up on his bedside light. He adjusts it just enough to bring some illumination to the room while still being kind to his sleepy eyes. "Few hours? Mate, should've just given me a nudge instead of laying there watching Loose Women. Poor sod. Though you do seem the type to start pitching a tent for Coleen Nolan." Riley chuckles and gives Jack a playful wink as he scoops up one of the cans from his bedding. "Madri? Nice touch. Thanks, lad. Fucking least you can do after knocking me off number one. Little shit." Of course, it's all in jest. Riley finds it hilarious that out of all the people to bump Weekend off of the top spot, it's his mate. Young Jack. "Cheers!" Riley cracks open his can and raises it from across the way. He sighs with delight after taking a sip. "That's pure nectar, that is. Jack, I'd love you even more if you could magically produce some crisps from that Tesco bag."

Riley rearranges his pillows and sits upright against his headboard, taking another sip in the process but almost chokes when Jack takes a swipe at his age. "Oi, 30 comes to all of us. Few years from now, you'll be grateful for a little nap now and then. Just you wait, Dunny Boy. Just you bloody wait."

"That's a bang on Oscar impression. Can almost imagine you in a country estate with a dog named Jasper." Riley chuckles at Jack's posh accent. Although not meant to be an Oscar impersonation, his long time friend does genuinely sound like a stereotypical private school boy who enjoys cream teas. He visibly winces and sucks air in through his teeth at the mention of the Janet Street-Porter visual. "Free circumcision though if you're after that sort of thing. She's a one-woman NHS is our Janet." Riley tries to laugh it off but is clearly still in physical discomfort at the mere thought. "Christ..." he sips some more beer as if to physically wash a bad taste away. "Two number ones already, eh? How's the ego? Can already tell you're feeling your oats a bit. Madri instead of that Newcastle Brown Ale shit you lot drink? Never had you down as a class traitor, Jack." Riley puts on a sarcastic fake laugh and flicks the finger back at him. "Ah-ha, very funny. You ever been bitten by a hungry Leeds supporter before?"

"To be honest, 30's alright. Feels younger than 27/28. You spend those years with the fear of the big 3-0, thinking you should have your head screwed on. Then it comes around and you realise nothing has changed." Riley gives a nonchalant shrug. "So you go back to doing ketamine and finger-blasting lasses in the bogs." Riley laughs and drinks more of his can. "Only joking, mate. Don't ever start that shit. The former, not the latter." He says, with a playful wink.

"I'd like to try one of those, how is it you say it? Newkie Broons?" Riley gives a surprisingly accurate impression of a Geordie accent. "Would be nice to see how the other half live. I don't mind slumming it to soak up some culture. I think I'm spoiled with my refined palate coming from Beeston, y'know?" Riley teases Jack with a playful wink. "Nah, since that brewery opened back home in the 2000's, everyone I know started drinking that Leeds Best. It's average at best. Everyone acts like they are something just because their beloved Diamond White went out the window. I do miss that though." Riley laughs and sips more of his can, nodding in agreement with Jack. "Yeah, me and my mates pretty much necked whatever we could. My folks didn't mind me drinking though. That kind of took the edge off it all and made it less cool. They thought I was sensible. Where's the fun in that? It's not rebelling if your folks are eggin' you on!"

"I'm the same," Riley begins, breaking his flow for another gulp of Madri. "I don't care much about my birthday. It's just a number. Though, to be fair, I do enjoy celebrating other people that I love and care for. Good vibes, cake, and a piss up. I'm sold, me." Riley chuckles but takes in Jack's more serious train of thought as the topic verges onto drugs. "Yeah, pal, don't start that shit. Now, fair play, I've dabbled." Riley holds his hands up, coming clean and surrendering to his not so squeaky clean past. "Not my smartest moment but I was 19 once, felt like the absolute shit and curiosity got the better of me. I've taken a few things thinking it was cool as fuck. Ain't worth it, mate." He shakes his head and screws up his face in disapproval.

Although they have a lot of banter, Riley does feel a duty of care towards Jack - a younger guy who is only just stepping foot into this crazy world. He doesn't wish to glamourise such a dark and serious problem that runs concurrently with being in the spotlight. "I've seen that shit first hand. I'm mates with Grimmie and what's happened to that kid is an absolute fucking shame, lad. Some of the lads in the group have had their own battles and relationships with it as well. Not my stories to tell. Though if you ever meet Billy, the smell of weed that hits you already speaks volumes." Riley titters and flashes a jokey smile so not to dampen the mood and make things lighter again. "Anyone offers you anything, you point them out to me and I'll fucking lay them out. Don't you worry, kid. This boyband member's got your back!" Riley laughs and flexes a bicep. Although it's playful in nature and he's a sweet guy, with his build and upbringing, Riley probably could knock someone out cold if he were to choose so.