Aspiring (and failing) writer Jesse told herself she’d never see her old flame Lucas again. But it’s 11pm and he’s just posted on Instagram about his big book deal. With a string of shitty writing gigs behind her, a quick pity-hook-up could help her get a foot in the publishing world. So it’s on.

Their meeting begins as a seemingly innocent and funny late night rendezvous. But when Lucas reveals that his book is all about his sexual experiences with Jesse, things get messy. Whose perspective is right? With riotous wit, surprising tenderness and the most awkward sex scene in history, Last Time asks, what do we really owe each other? Can our situationships ever give us what we need, or is intimacy too much to ask for? Also, why is there a massive poster of Napoleon Bonaparte on stage?