There’s always one. Every year. Your family lets out one of the fields of your farm to student campers and every year there is always one that comes wandering close to the farmhouse. As you were locking up for the night you saw him outside in the nearest field just staring at the night sky. It’s kind of endearing that these students seem to have never truly seen the night sky before… He walks towards the farmhouse, apparently oblivious to his lack of clothes.

You don’t exactly know what you were thinking when you let Mary Patrick talk you into wearing this costume. It’s exciting but also a bit… well… it shows a lot of skin. But she was very persuasive. Very. Persuasive. And she has that way. That look. That giggle. That completely undoes you. So you put it on and you came to the club. And there was Max. Darling beautiful Max who always smiles at you and is always on the treadmill and the rowing machine. And he’s seeing you like this. Eek. Looks like he’s the bouncer on duty tonight… He looks you up and down.

You’ve been invited to attend an exclusive event hosted by Hannah Martinez. It’s sort of a research study you think (you had to sign a consent form for it… to be honest you didn’t read it in detail) but also just a yoga session. You don’t know that much about yoga, but the words “clothing optional” certainly got your attention. You arrive at the studio and wait for the session to start.

She came to you in your dreams again last night. Every night for the past two weeks she has come to you. Her lips don’t move but you hear her voice. Calling you. Telling you how to find her. All the time staring at you. Staring into your soul. Every night you awake suddenly, drenched in sweat. Remembering every detail. So this morning you decided to find her. You followed the landmarks that she described. You found the greenhouse she was always stood in. You opened the door. You walked in. And she is here. Or is this still a dream?

You were drunk when you pressed “send”. That’s your excuse. When you realised what you’d done the next day you panicked. Looked at the photos that you’d sent as an attachment and blushed. You tried to pretend that it hadn’t happened. You got on with your day. That evening you had a reply from the site you’d submitted your photos to… “Hey! We think you look great and you certainly seem to fulfil our criteria for this site. We’d like to invite you to a shoot with another model. Full video, boundaries are your own. I attach terms and conditions as well as the fee structure” You open the attachment. It pays pretty good… of course if you decide to pull out of the shoot or if you veto the footage then there’s a penalty clause… The terms and conditions seem fair though… You can’t believe that you’re considering it. But you are. The next day you wake up, hungover again. And then you remember. You accepted it. You signed a contract. Why do you do this to yourself? You receive a calendar invite to a location: a flat not that far away. It’s tonight. You follow the instructions to dress casually. Like you normally would. And you go to the address. There’s a guy about your age waiting outside the door looking just as nervous as you…

You thought you’d surreptitiously slide into the fancy dress party at the campus night club without making an effort. Just to see what was going down. So far so good. You’ve got away with it. Looks fairly standard. But then. In the middle of the floor… is that Drew? Wow. He’s… Well that’s a costume. Or part of it… He sees you and his eyes light up. He walks towards you. There’s no escape.

You have been working with Emily as her therapist for a couple of years. In most ways she is very straight forward as a patient. In other ways there is something confusing and self-contradicting about how she carries out her life. She calls you unexpectedly with a dilemma.

You’re in the same class as Lisa for the Philosophy of Art module you are taking at uni. During a seminar last week the two of you really got into it debating the aesthetics of the human body. She seemed really knowledgeable and really into the topic. You swapped numbers and said you would meet for coffee but you haven’t got around to it yet… And then, out of the blue, she called you and asked if you were free. She wanted to sound you out about a project she’s working on. You were intrigued so headed along to her studio.

It’s been a long year so far. It’s only April but it feels like it’s been a century since you last had a break and got out of that miserable office cubicle. Ever since you saw that Netflix series about the idyllic French countryside you’ve wanted to go out there and just spend a week purely existing. Not worrying about work or chores or keeping up with friends and the sheer grind that London life seems to involve. You finish work on Friday at 5 and (uncharacteristically) leave the office on the dot. You take a taxi to the airport with your small bag of clothes (you don’t figure you’ll need much to be honest) and hop on a plane. Once you land, you’re caught up in security for what feels like forever and then finally you can get on the train. It’s late by the time you arrive at the nearest town but fortunately you remembered to research a phone number for a taxi. Between your basic French and Marcel’s surprisingly good English, you manage to sort things out and you arrive in pitch darkness at this little beautiful cottage. You fall into bed and sleep like the dead. Next morning, you’re woken by the sound of a cock crowing a little way away. You enjoy just lying there for a while. No need to rush to play squash. No need to check your emails. This is bliss. After a while, you get up and look around the cottage. Coffee is your first priority. You hear a noise outside on the porch so you stick your head out of the door to see who is there.

Another day, another undergraduate to get through their final project. You’re a PhD student in the maths department who gets assigned these, normally hopeless, Master’s students struggling with their academic writing, or with their structure, or whatever. On a good day, it’s rewarding. On a bad day… You come to the library to meet your latest victim, Archie Summers. You turn the corner and, seriously? That can’t be him. He looks like he couldn’t even be bothered to dress properly.

During the last games night, you were one of the first on stage and hit on a good partnership with Jenni as the game progressed, almost acting like a foil for her banter. You’ve been asked to do the same for the next games night except this time, it’s Harry who is the host. He missed the first session so it’s down to you to explain the rules.

The invitation from the new student union president was detailed but opaque. “Come to the theatre wearing a baggy hoodie and a pair of joggers”. As you arrived at the theatre, you saw your fellow new students all there, all having followed the instructions. You file into the theatre and are handed two cards with your name on them. You take your seats and Jenni enters the stage wearing, like you, a baggy hoodie and a pair of joggers

You come into the kitchen to make some breakfast. Of course Archie is here. At least you think it’s Archie. He’s wearing Johnny’s dressing gown (the sexy one) but not wearing his pyjamas… Why do you have to share a flat with an identical twin? You know there’s something that distinguishes them but…

There is a knock at your door. You’re not expecting anyone… You’ve just come back from the gym and were thinking about doing some more work on your latest uni assignment but maybe this could be more interesting. You open the door and Mary is there wearing… well… that’s definitely more interesting than your assignment.

You are on a camping trip with six other students from your dorm. It’s great to get away for a few days and just engage with nature. On the first morning, you wake early. To be honest, your tent has seen better days and the insulation is not great. You were freezing, and it felt like you were on the gnarliest tree-roots in the whole glade. The first thing you see when you poke your head out of the tent is Aaron, stretching. He’s taken his shirt off and is wearing just his pyjama bottoms. His skin glistens with sweat and his muscles are amazingly defined.

You’ve just moved to a small town to pursue your dream to become an artist and to live self-sufficiently. You bought a small cottage and planted some vegetables. You set up your studio space and started work. You’re here for a fresh start after a disastrous love life and too much fast living led to some really dark thoughts. Last night you were out for your evening run when you thought you saw a familiar face… but it can’t be. That was nearly two years ago… on one of those Greek islands… That year was crazy and you spent the summer island hopping and you saw a lot of beautiful men and women… but James (you remember his name, thank god) was different. He was so eloquent and all he wanted to do was talk. But it can’t be him. Can it? But it is.

You’ve been married to Sue for a year now and you couldn’t be happier. Except. She’s away. A lot. She has quite a high powered career that takes her away. While she is away, her brother comes round which is really nice… but sometimes it feels like he’s been asked to babysit. She comes back from her latest trip and wants to talk. It’s serious she says. What? What does this mean? You’ve wondered sometimes about her and her boss… or about what happens on these work trips but you tell yourself you’re paranoid. But what if you’re not?

This course, as part of your degree in art, had a focus on applying paint to the human body, treating it as a canvas. You’ve spent the last few months painting mannequins, or at individual limbs of your fellow students but this is your big project. You and your fellow students gather in the university’s central gallery to meet your ‘canvases’. When it comes to your turn, Andrew Metcalf steps forward.

You don’t know what’s happening. You don’t know who you are. Suddenly it’s like you have lost most of your memory. You recognise Paris. But who are you? Who is this woman?

You don’t know what happened to the time. You were researching in the stacks below the main university library and… well, you’ve never been good at keeping track of time. Doctors call it hyper focus or something. You realised that it had been a while since you last looked at your watch but… 2am? What? The doors are locked… You’re locked in the stacks. No one will find you for hours. You start shouting and waving at the security sensor. You hear a door unlock at the other end of the room.