… if the Chloe Drew were a person, she’d be the girl you met at university whose beauty struck you immediately as indisputable but effortless. You’d have tried to hate her, because she scared you a little bit with her deceptively simple style and instant popularity, but eventually you realised that she was lovely, and steady, and true and you’d be silly to pass up on the chance to get to know her better. Eventually, you took the plunge and walked up to her and said hello; she smiled at you, gave you half the cupcake she’d been having for lunch and said ‘Share the calories, share the love eh?’ with a twinkle in her eye and a rueful shrug. You’d known then and there that you’d never have to be formal or polite or considerate with her feelings- she’d let you be you, inspire you to be better, but she’d never ever stress you out. After a while, you two would become inseparable. She’d encourage you to disdain makeup on the weekends, but teach you the secrets of the perfectly messy up do. People would look at you two, walking down the street arm in arm, laughing at the sun, and feel inexplicably better about everything. If the Chloe Drew were a person, she’d be more than your best friend. She’d be your right arm, your soul-song, your deep breath, your necessary joy.