Shades of teen. We flicked through pages of photographs hoping to find one to use. The task had become tiresome because there were only so many images of scantily clad guys that you could absorb, and there was a risk that we might choose the wrong one. But we kept looking, thinking that the next page might reveal something better than the one before. “It is like watching gay porn,” said Charlie. “You start watching a video but move on to the next one because you think it will be more exciting but never is.” His reaction caught me by surprise. “This is hopeless,” he continued, snapping the photo album shut, “and why do they all seem to be called Luka?”