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- Afrikaans
- العربية
- Azərbaycanca
- Български
- বাংলা
- Bosanski
- Беларуская
- Català
- Čeština
- Dansk
- Deutsch
- Ελληνικά
- English (AU)
- Español
- Eesti
- Euskara
- Français
- Galego
- ગુજરાતી
- עברית
- हिन्दी
- Hrvatski
- Bahasa Indonesia
- Íslenska
- Italiano
- 日本語
- Kartuli
- ಕನ್ನಡ
- 한국어
- Kurdî
- Lëtzebuergesch
- Lietuviškai
- Latviešu
- Bahasa Melayu
- Malti
- မြန်မာဘာသာ
- Nederlands
- Norsk
- Polski
- Português
- Română
- Русский
- Albanian
- Српски
- ภาษาไทย
- Tiếng Việt
- 汉语
Episode 1: Cosmo’s Grand Introduction
Meet Cosmo Farfetch: failed actor, failed influencer, failed boyfriend — but still draped in sequins and denial. In his grand debut, Cosmo lounges on a velvet couch at 3 p.m., nursing heartbreak, unpaid bills, and an argyle rug he may or may not have “borrowed” from Tiffany. With kookaburras mocking him and martinis spilling, Cosmo proves that rock bottom can, in fact, be fabulous.
COSMO FARFETCH
Daz James
9/18/20251 min read


At precisely three o’clock on a Tuesday afternoon, when normal people were either at work or at least pretending to be, Cosmo Farfetch was sprawled across his velvet couch like a starlet abandoned mid–B-movie. A martini glass dangled from one hand, his sunglasses clung stubbornly to his face, and his robe had slipped just far enough to suggest scandal without delivering. It was the kind of tableau Vivien Leigh might have staged if she’d ever lived in a share house with overdue bills.
Cosmo, bless him, was once again recovering from heartbreak. His most recent lover — a bespectacled creature who, after consuming three gins and if you squinted, looked suspiciously like Matt Smith — had fled the scene, leaving behind only a bar tab and a suspicious number of Enya CDs. Cosmo had re-purposed the latter as a makeshift scarecrow to keep kookaburras from laughing at his misery. It wasn’t working.
There was also the matter of the rug, peppered with Ritz cracker crumbs, crushed pink tabs that once had a bunny on them, and a wet patch of a sticky substance that may or may not be jizz.
The rather gaudy argyle monstrosity was rescued from the home of Tiffany — his frenemy, nemesis, and one-woman demolition derby of his self-esteem, as a merciful act. She had no taste for the upkeep of Arygle. She could barely handle cotton.
Cosmo looked at the rug, wondering where everything had gone so wrong. One might assume that a man at rock bottom couldn't get any lower. Not Cosmo. He was on his knees in minutes, lapping up that sticky substance, hoping it was gin, like a reformed alcoholic on a cheat day, before sitting up, cheeks flushed, with all the dignity of a dethroned duchess. Realising he was so wrong. His rebound had left something behind.
And so, dear readers, our story begins with a failed actor, an empty glass and a regrettable night, and a feud with Tiffany simmering like an unattended saucepan. It can only go downhill from here.
#CosmoFarfetch #ALifeLessFabulous #QueerComedy #SatiricalSoapOpera #GayCampFiction #QueerStories #FunReads #FictionOnTheNet #LGBT #Fiction #QuickReads

Daz James
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