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Me, I’d kill for one now. Back’s knackered from pacing these damp cells, barking at idiots. Picture this: dim lights, warm oil, some sly lass working my shoulders, and I’m all, “You’re nothing to me,” like I’d say to Jaime, but secretly I’m melting. That’s the kicker—control slips away, and it’s bloody terrifying. Surprised me first time I tried it, years back. Some chick in King’s Landing, hands like a damn sorceress, had me purring in ten minutes flat. “I’ll always be a part of you,” she hummed—straight outta *Blue*, and I nearly wept. Me! Weeping! Pathetic, but true.

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After that, I needed a breather. I found a bench in Golders Green Park. It’s a lovely spot, by the way. Trees everywhere, and a little pond. I sat there, sipping my coffee, and just took it all in. Life’s crazy, you know?

Anthony Joshua FINALLY moves out of 'amazing' mum's modest £175k flat in Golders Green (and luckily he has £83