he’s not proud of it, but he’s first instinct is to count them and internally measure up the box, move the one slipped out of its place and stuck to the box back to the orderly line with the others before he even considers picking one up and biting into it — they’re good, he’s man enough to admit that despite considering himself slightly more of a muffin guy. a quick estimate says he can get away with eating four and leaving the remaining eight to the horsemen, letting them presume the box originally contained two each… one each, if he manages to eat eight before being interrupted.

at some point, during eating cupcake number four, he lifts the remaining ones out of the box and to a plate with a hastily written  ‘ share! ’  note written next to it. cupcake number six, and he picks up the post-it pile again and scribbles  ‘ thanks. ’  on top of it, leaving the message understated on purpose as to not raise suspicion when he’s going to drop the empty box with the note on top of it on sophie’s doorstep. cupcake number seven, and he gets another idea.

a few hours later, an unknown woman drops off a cupcake-less cupcake box to the door of the collins residence, with the same  ‘ thanks. ’  note on top of it, but with one difference: inside lies a quick-print cell phone picture of five horsemen sitting on one couch, faces more or less covered in frosting. one more note reads on the back of it:   this picture may never see the light of day.