F （12:48 AM）： You’re not bugging me, Freckles. Ok ready?
H （12:48 AM）： Yup. Go.
F （12:51 AM）： It’s crazy how much better this song is than I remember. Why am I not listening to this all the time?
H （12:52 AM）： Now you can. Isn’t it amazing?
F （12:53 AM）： Uh-huh. Do I get to pick next?
H （12:55 AM）： Oooh. Okay. Whatcha got for me, Peacock?
F （12:57 AM）： Something to cheer you up. You have the Scissor Sisters in that encyclopedia phone?
H （12:58 AM）： Studio albums or live? Yes to both.
F （12:59 AM）： Jesus, should have known. Start “I Don’t Feel Like Dancin’” in 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . .
January 1
FOX （12:01 AM）： Happy New Year.
HANNAH （12:02 AM）： Same to you! May it bring you crabs.
F （12:03 AM）： Any resolutions?
H （12:07 AM）： Normally I would say no. But I want to take more risks this year. Put myself out there a little more workwise, you know? Don’t copy me. You are AT CAPACITY on workplace risks.
F （12:09 AM）： How else am I going to get crabs?
H （12:10 AM）： At a restaurant, like a normal person.
F （12:10 AM）： I always order the steak.
H （12:11 AM）： That’s irony for you.
February 5
FOX （9:10 AM）： It’s raining here. Give me something moody to listen to.
HANNAH （9:12 AM）： Hmm. The National. Start with “Fake Empire.”
F （9:14 AM）： On it. Got any plans for this weekend?
H （9:17 AM）： Not really. My parents are in Aspen, so I have the house to myself. I have it to myself a lot lately. I keep expecting Piper to walk around the corner in a charcoal mask.
F （9:18 AM）： Women put charcoal on their faces?
H （9:20 AM）： That’s tame. There is such a thing as a snail facial.
F （9:21 AM）： Jesus. I’m just going to pretend I never heard that.
H （9:28 AM）： Do you have plans this weekend? Heading to Seattle?
F （9:35 AM）： That’s always a possibility.
F （9:36 AM）： But it’s my mother’s birthday. Might just run her over some flowers and say hey.
H （9:38 AM）： You’re a good son. Does she ever come see you in Westport?
F （9:45 AM）： No. She doesn’t.
F （9:46 AM）： Thanks for the music rec, Freckles. Text you later.
February 14
HANNAH （6:03 PM）： Happy Valentine’s Day! Doing anything special?
FOX （6:05 PM）： God no. I’d rather light myself on
F （6:09 PM）： Are you? Doing something special?
H （6:11 PM）： Yes, sir. I’m on a date.
F （6:11 PM）： With who??
H （6:15 PM）： Myself. Very charming. Might be the one.
F （6:16 PM）： Lock that girl down. She’s the kind you bring home to mom.
F （6:20 PM）： Do you want to be on a date? With someone besides yourself?
H （6:23 PM）： IDK. It wouldn’t suck? Unfortunately, my type would probably define this whole holiday as a commercial gimmick. Or he’d buy me dead roses to represent the evils of consumerism.
F （6:26 PM）： That’s a pretty specific type. Are we talking about your director crush? Sergei, right?
H （6:28 PM）： Yes. My sister likes to tease me about pining for starving artists.
F （6:29 PM）： You like them dark and dramatic, huh?
H （6:30 PM）： Careful! You’re going to give me an orgasm.
F （6:30 PM）： If that was the plan, babe, you’d have had two already.
F （6:33 PM）： Shit, Hannah. Sorry. I shouldn’t have gone there.
H （6:34 PM）： No, I went there first. Blame it on the single glass of wine I’ve had. #lightweight
F （6:40 PM）： Apart from being dark and dramatic . . . what makes a man your type? What is eventually going to make a man The One?
H （6:43 PM）： I think . . . if they can find a reason to laugh with me on the worst day.
F （6:44 PM）： That sounds like the opposite of your type.
H （6:45 PM）： It does, doesn’t it? Must be the wine.
H （6:48 PM）： He’ll need to have a cabinet full of records and something to play them on, of course.
F （6:51 PM）： Well obviously.
February 28
FOX （7:15 PM）： How was your day?
HANNAH （7:17 PM）： It had sort of a “Fast Car” by Tracy Chapman feeling to it.
F （7:18 PM）： Like . . . nostalgic?
H （7:20 PM）： Yeah. A little blue. I think I miss Westport?
F （7:20 PM）： Come here.
F （7:23 PM）： If you want.
H （7:25 PM）： I wish! We just started casting a new movie. Not a great time.