Over the last 18 months, Riley and fellow musician Jack Dunn have been forming quite the close friendship. Mere acquaintances or friendly faces tend to be as far as things usually go in the showbiz world - someone to have a little laugh with when you bump into them at an awards show or who'll give you the odd like on an Instagram post. It seldom runs deeper than that. The world of entertainment is a fickle one but also extremely time consuming. Not everyone is able to form the relationships they may yearn for nor bask in the human connection that they need. Despite his insanely hectic schedule and lifestyle for the past 13 years, Riley has always managed to carve out the time and space for friends. His ethos is all about maintaining some sense of normality as well as providing a sounding board for the other small percentage of the world who know what it's like to be in the public eye. In an industry with no safeguards and the way in which Weekend were practically thrown to the wolves when they debuted, Riley takes it upon himself to be the friend and confidant that he never had.

He sees a lot of himself in Jack, albeit believing his friend is far more talented than he could ever aspire to be. A fellow working class Northern lad seemingly plucked from obscurity overnight. Going to the pub with your mates on a Sunday and finishing the night off with a chippy only to wake up on the Monday and have the #1 song in the world isn't a pipeline many others have travelled down. Aside from caring about his mate's mental health, Riley has also been truly invested in Jack's talent and artistry. Being invited down to Brighton to hear this anticipated debut album played back is an honour and part of his duty as a good pal, but he also can't help feel a little smug and giddy as a fan, knowing he has this exclusive first listen ahead.

After making a relatively undisturbed train commute from London to Brighton, Riley made his way to Head South Recording Studios. No security or assistance. There's no airs and graces around Riley. This is a social call and about Jack. In Riley's mind, turning up with an entourage just comes across as, well, dick-ish. He knocks on the door of the studio where Jack said he would be and pops his head in. "This where the magic happens?". Riley chuckles and enters the room, bringing some of the Brighton in November cold in with him. He places a generic white plastic carrier bag down on the table as he approaches Jack and opens his arms out. "Bring it in, lad! How you doing?"

"Ah, is that the noise I heard coming down the corridor? Thought someone had run over a cat out in the car park." Riley laughs and embraces Jack, who can probably feel the biting cold clinging to Riley and the speckles of rain that still linger on his coat. "Bleak, lad. Brighton's all well and good when the sun's out but walking along that seafront just there? Oof!" Riley chuckles and takes his coat off, hanging it over the back of a chair. "Though I had Billy on the phone for most of the journey over so that killed some time." Riley gives Jack a knowing look. Despite him having only properly met Billy the once, it's common knowledge that he loves the sound of his own voice and a lot of time can pass as he prattles on.

"I brought us some sustenance, by the way." Riley pulls the sides of his plastic bag downward, revealing some cans of beer and snacks. "Who needs a fridge when you're trailing around Brighton, eh?". The bracing air has helped ensure the crisp temperature of the beverages. Riley takes out an already half eaten bar of Diary Milk Caramel and proceeds to snap off a section with his teeth, the November chill also solidifying the chocolate. "So..." he begins, with a mouthful of less than compliant caramel. "When did you last sleep?" he asks with a chuckle, taking a seat. He's all too familiar with the finalisation process of an album and knowing that this is Jack's first experience with it, he can imagine the flurry of emotions he's going through.

"Yeah, get that down you." He cracks a can open himself as he relaxes into the chair. Riley quickly realised after first getting to know Jack that he's someone who takes his artistry seriously. After being signed and his first track immediately experiencing immense success out of the gate, there's usually an immense pressure and hyper fixating that follows it in regards to getting an album out the door. Jack and those around him have taken their time to craft and finetune this record as opposed to just chucking it out to capitalise on success. Although he won't outwardly say it in as many words, Riley knows his pal could benefit from a lot of reassurance which is a big reason why he's here. This album is evidently of high importance and you only get one shot at a debut album.

Riley nods along, just letting Jack speak and air his thoughts and grievances surrounding the whole process. "Hmmm, yeah, no I totally get it, mate. You know, it's a daunting thing. That never fully goes away. You want to make the best impression, please the fans and feel good about the product that your name is slapped on. It's understandable if you give two shits, you know? Over time, you learn to trust your gut a little more." Riley gives a soft, reassuring smile as someone who has been in the industry for well over a decade now. "Anyway, no fear. Ri's here...with his musical ear." Riley playfully taps on his own earlobes. "See, that rhymed without any effort. So musically inclined and attuned, me!" Riley chuckles and takes a sip of his beer, not wanting to rush Jack to press the play button. He can tell that he has his doubts and if he was that eager, he would've slapped the album on already. "What is it you're not feeling about it, lad? Certain songs, the sequencing, vocal takes?" Riley wants to know what it is he's listening out for so that he can help but Jack's mind at ease when it comes time for feedback.

Riley, secretly working away on his own material, realises what a privileged position he is in. A solo record for him is pretty much a guaranteed success taking into account the name he has built for himself over the years. Even if it does actually flop? Well, it's not as if he's going to fade into obscurity. He's one fifth of Weekend. For Jack, however, there's a lot more riding on his first musical statement that's being issued out into the world. There's always a playful ribbing going on where these two are concerned but for now, Riley makes it his point to be truly composed and professional. "Well, what I would like to remind you of is that I don't think anyone is going into a Jack Dunn album expecting light and fluffy. No offence." Riley gives a soft little laugh, hoping Jack doesn't misinterpret him. "You've established an audience doing raw and gritty. That's what the people have bought and streamed. That's what they were singing back to you when you killed Wembley." Riley smiles at Jack as he recalls the time he opened up for them earlier in the year.

As the music starts, despite the vow he took upon himself to remain professional not thirty seconds ago, he can't help but feel the urge to dick around rumbling inside of him. When he hears the first line sung from Jack, he screws up his face. "Dog shit. Turn it off." He laughs heartily and gives Jack a playful nudge. "I'm joking, I'm joking, lad." Riley takes another sip of his beer before adjusting the height of his chair, feeling a little too low down. "What would you prefer; my opinion after each track or just wait to the end?"