Never sleep withwith aa finance bro

I meet Jackson in Brixton, London. You know the drill when it comes to finance bros. Gilets. Chinos. Ralph Lauren jumpers. They hold eye contact like their life depends on it and get you to bed, not because they’re funny, pretend to care and because they’re good at holding conversations, but because they’re blue eyes shift something inside of you that’s never been shifted before.

I market for a fashion brand in central and a few of us decided to go for a few drinks Friday night after work in Brixton. South London, not my usual place for a night out if I had to choose, but my colleague Rachel gave me no say in the matter.

Jackson is standing across from me at the bar when we first meet. His eyes, like two blue flames, settle over me and lock in place. The corners of his plump lips raise into a smile and his hair, gelled back, looks even better from the side when he turns back to the barman to order his drink. It’s jet-black and his hairline, fully intact, perfectly shapes his face.