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.

"What? Like you could do a better impression of me? I don't think." Riley laughs as he clocks Jack's stern look. He can't help but smile at the prospect of enjoying a night on the town back up north. That sense of normality is the dream for Riley. While he can let loose in London, for as vast as it is, it's also a hiding place for him due to the exact same reason. Very seldomly does anyone dare stop in the hustle and bustle of the capital to approach him. It happens at times but it's so fast-paced. Back "up the road", however, he feels like he stands out like a sore thumb in more condensed environments like that. While he loves and appreciates all the fans and supporters, it's hard to let inhibitions go and enjoy oneself when being stopped for a picture every 30 seconds. Still, he's not going to dampen Jack's spirits with those worries. "Y'know, that's a good shout. I've only ever really passed through the place. A night on the toon would be canny. Get mortal, like." Riley plasters on a big, cheeky grin and looks over to gauge Jack's reaction, trying his best to wind his pal up.

Riley nods in agreement with Jack's sentiment in regards to their similar upbringing. Jack's very first single really spoke to him on a personal level. "Yeah, mate. That's why I reached out. Wanted to support a great, Northern, working class talent. Not many of us make it. Soppy shit aside, you seemed like a right laugh." Riley pauses and takes a final sip of his can. "Still waiting on that laugh to come though, you miserable sod." He playfully winks and cracks open a second can. "Yeah, mate. Stay away from the drugs. Stick to the booze." Riley chuckles at the irony of them discussing vices while gearing up for a night on the town. He raises his can and takes a gulp. "Ey, if you did need a boyband in your corner, you'd want it to be us. Maybe not Billy, though. He watched your back, he might try get up your arse in the process." Riley laughs and fiddles around with his phone for a second. "Speaking of the Devil, B's in the area. Said he'd try to meet me either tonight or tomorrow if he can. You up for making that introduction? Don't read too much into my last statement. He's actually sound." Riley's aware Billy's big personality can be overwhelming for a lot of people but senses Jack will be more than OK with it and able to roll with the punches.

"Oi, Last of the Summer Wine? Surely I deserve an Emmerdale comparison at least? I could easily solve a problem in't top field, me." Riley chuckles and purposely turns the dial up to an eleven on his already thick accent. He gives Jack a playful wink once his friend finally admits defeats, approving of his impersonation. "Aye, once the Weekend money dries up, think I might go into voice acting. To be fair, I only started mimicking the accent because Ant & Dec were always on the telly every time I switched it on as a kid. Actually...it's still the same these days, come to think of it!" Riley decides to put the worries of being pestered out on the town to the back of his mind and instead focuses on the prospect of a great time. "So what's the scene like up there? Where's your sort of go-to place, then?" Riley sips more of his beer before leaning a little closer from across the way to ask the most important question. "How are the lasses? Or the lads? Y'know me, I'm one of those greedy fuckers." Riley laughs softly and drinks some more. While Riley definitely leans more towards women in the attraction stakes, he's open minded if he feels a connection with someone. He's aware that there's a stigma of sleaze attached to sexual fluidity so decides to just play up to it and be in on the joke.

Riley holds his hands up and chortles, agreeing that his assumption about Jack was farfetched in the beginning. "Fair enough, mate. Was just meaning you came across as real and genuine. Not one of those plummy, BRIT school kids. And, not to tar everyone with the same brush, I've always thought you Geordie lot always sounded really upbeat and fun. Same with the Irish. You and our little Dustyn should do some Sat-Nav work. Cheer up everyone stuck in a traffic jam." Riley sucks air in through his teeth and grimaces at the mention of Schindler's List. "Ooh, not my proudest wank, Jack. Not my proudest." He laughs and drinks some more Madri, rolling his eyes as Jack teases him about his position in the band. "Honestly, lad, say all that shit to Billy and you're golden. Love the fella but I swear he's got the right ego to do very well in politics." While Billy can be a handful, Riley understands him on a deeply personal level and knows that if he's cool with you, you'll have a great friend for life fighting your corner. He thinks he'll click with Jack no problem.

Finishing his second Madri, he places the can on his bedside table and sits up to directly face Jack, letting his feet dangle over the side of the bed. "By the way, tonight? It's all on me, mate. Whatever you want, no skin off my nose. I was the one that asked you to come out. My treat, pal." Riley doesn't wish to seem condescending or arrogant, sounding as breezy as possible. He just feels it is the least he could do. Riley has literal millions in the bank. Jack is a regular guy from up North who is just starting out in this business. The guy also bought cans for the room, paying London's mark-up prices for them. He doesn't wish for his friend to feel pressure or out his depth tonight. Riley's aware that it's not a level playing field, especially if Billy joins the mix and wishes to do X,Y and Z.

"Ey, he's not done too bad for himself, our Ringo. Hanging back, letting others do the work and rolling in millions well into his 80's? That's not a bad shift!" Riley jokes, not actually one to place so much importance on money. Evidently, with his hotel choice and proposal to Jack, he has the cash, but it's not his driving factor. He listens and nods along as Jack maps out their future night on the town together, mentally picturing the scenes. He can't help but laugh when Jack confesses that the girls don't leave much to the imagination. "Yeah? You must have to avert your eyes all the time then, pal. I know you love the classy type." Riley of course remembers the girl who made a beeline for them last time they were out and how Jack very much appreciated her ill-fitting dress. "Pink Triangle?! Yeah, there's no mistaking what goes on down there then, ey?!" Riley raises an eyebrow and laughs. "What a name."

He nods in acceptance when Jack says he'd still like to pay for a few rounds. It's expected and understandable. The last thing he wants to do is patronise Jack but still being in touch with the real world, Riley's also aware that not everybody can easily cough up not just London prices but prime, exclusive central London nightlife prices. "Sorry, mate. Don't mean to be disrespectful or owt. That's fair enough. Like you say, I just want to carry my own weight as well. I picked out the location and venues so it's only fair I take some responsibility for that. In fact, fuck that, let Billy pay for everything. Put that "I've got 12 number ones" money to the test." Riley laughs, hoping to bring some light to the situation. "I'm not bitter towards him at all." Riley cuts the laughter short and jokingly puts on a fake stern tone.

"Actually, before we start heading out, there's something I want to ask you. Just while we're talking about the good ol' North it reminded me of something." Riley begins, plugging his phone in for a quick charge in preparation for the night ahead. "Back home, I've put some funding towards this new centre. It's mainly targeted towards the homeless community but everyone can use the services. Food banks, clinics, classes, all that sort of stuff. We're opening 29th of this month. Hoping to get a few names attached to the place for the first few days of it opening. Some good publicity and awareness. Was wondering if you'd be interested in helping out? Whether it's to just give us a song, volunteer for something, even just show your face. No pressure if you're busy though, lad. Even just a little post about it would be a great help."

Riley tilts his head and purses his lips as if begrudgingly agreeing with Jack against his will. "Well...I do suppose there's a certain allure to a lass in a tight dress. In the most respectful manner, of course. Nothing sordid, as I'm sure you'll agree." Riley puts on a mock, uppity and stuffy voice, minding his p's & q's as he jokingly downplays the natural attraction. Doesn't last long as a red-blooded thought soon enters his brain. "Oof, think we'll pull tonight? You, me, Mr. Khan hitting the town. Unstoppable, lad." Riley infectiously laughs. More often than not, situations like this end up just becoming big talk and fantasy. The reality is that Riley's very much aware of his power and he doesn't wish for any sort of imbalance. Of course he has his mucky thoughts but at the end of the day, he's a real gentleman and often feels uncomfortable when drunken and/or starstruck women throw themselves at him. The optics of that can always look a bit dodgy. Billy on the other hand has a totally different train of thought.

"Oh, wow. Really? Cheers, mate! That's class, that. That's way beyond what I'd hoped for!" Riley visibly beams at Jack's generosity, clearly taken aback yet delighted at his friend's willingness. Most folk agree to get involved but don't really elaborate and he's well aware some folk he has approached about it have only signed up to save face and not actively say 'no' to helping a charity organisation. "You're a good lad. Really appreciate that, man." Riley's smile could fill the room and for a brief moment, the usual bantering between the two subsides and some genuine love and appreciation comes through. "It's a shitshow everywhere but the homeless figures in Leeds have dramatically risen over the last few years. Seems we're also in for a bad winter. Just wanting to do what I can, y'know?"

Riley stretches his arms after spending a good few hours in bed before reaching for his charging phone to check the battery percentage. "Think I'm going to have a quick shower. Freshen up and wake myself up a bit. Lay here much longer I'll be spark out again and you'll be pretending to be interested in your phone while you'll really be watching me sleep again." Riley laughs but it's cut short and interrupted with a big yawn. He's on the wrong side of 25 now.

Taking his phone into the bathroom for some musical entertainment while he showers and gussies up, Riley decides to play Jack's "Silence So Loud". Loud being the operative word as he blasts it and sings along with gusto, clearly trying to wind his friend up through the wall and make him a tad embarrassed. The track finishes but instantaneously starts back up again and so does Riley's purposely over the top shower singing. It's evident he's on a mission to run this into the ground as for the entirety of his time beautifying himself in the bathroom, the song repeats. During one rendition, Riley even heavily mimicked Jack's accent again as he sang, feeling safe to go gung-ho about it behind the security of a locked bathroom door. The music finally subsides but Riley can still be heard singing to himself as he finishes up "Why must the silence be so loud?". The only saving grace of the repetitive ordeal is that Riley has a really great voice, one that not many people appreciate with Billy basking in 90% of the spotlight.

Eventually the bathroom doors opens after what seems like an eternity and a steam clouded aroma of lotions and potions follows into the room. "Cracking song, that. Any idea who sings it?" Riley laughs and tussles his wet hair with the fluffy white towel. Of course he makes absolutely no acknowledgement of the elephant in the room, just casually walking back in stark bollock naked and letting it hang as it were. A private concert and a view or Riley's knob - there's people who'd pay good money to have what Jack's being subjected to for free. "I've left some of me good soaps and sprays in there if you fancy getting rid of the waft of Tyne Bridge." Riley laughs and wraps his towel around his waist, putting Jack out of his misery. Again, Ri's evidently very comfortable with his mate as it's not even addressed.

"I'm thinking..." he begins, perching back down on the edge of his bed. "We could start off at The Pink Chihuahua. Don't worry about the name, it's not like the Pink Triangle with teeth! It's a little Mexican dive bar. Underground, quite small. Really chilled atmosphere and great drinks in there. Went once before with Billy. It has The Khan's seal of approval and you can order little tacos with your drinks. What more can you ask for?" Riley smiles and pulls his bag up from the floor, rifling through it as he begins to get ready. He produces an inhaler and takes a puff, looking across at Jack as he does so, knowing some quip will be coming his way in a minute. "And don't you start. I'm not the coolest member of Weekend, I get it." He chuckles and shakes his head, resting the inhaler next to him on the quilt.

After making their way through the bitter November night air and bustling Soho crowds, the warm and cosy atmosphere of The Pink Chihuahua is greatly appreciated. It's a small, modern underground bar situated downstairs from a Mexican restaurant. With old-fashioned posters boasting all sorts of Tequila brands and hand painted iconography of Cinco de Mayo and Día de los Muertos upon the alcove walls that houses the booths, the place certainly makes no bones about its branding. It's not overly crowded nor is it stone dead. It's the sort of place where people stop off for one or two to enjoy the quirkiness of the getup but not really a venue where you spend your whole night out. There's just the right level of noise and ambience going on to make this an enjoyable little setting.

Riley has lined the table up with bottles of beer as well as a trayful of Tequila shots. It's not his favourite drink but it's only fitting that he gets in on the action while in a place like this. It'd be like going to McDonald's and ordering a salad. "Bottoms up, lad." Riley raises a shot glass before downing his tequila, grimacing. He takes off his jacket and shuffles to the inside of the booth, closest to the wall and opposite Jack as he's expecting company in the form of Billy. He knows his good friend would much rather sit on the outside and soak up any attention from potential fans in the venue. "So, now I'm not snoring my head off, we can have a proper catch up." Riley laughs and switches to a much more palatable bottle of beer. "How's the album coming along? You still finding this whole singing lark alright?" Riley smiles and sips some beer.