So here's the basic information about the play: Last night I went to see Missing, (written by Barney Norris), at the Tristan Bates theatre in London. It was directed by Alice Hamilton and put on by Up In Arms theatre company.

Entering the theatre last night and sitting down waiting for it to begin, I was extremely curious to see the characters. From what I knew, it was pretty much a play about Joz and Barney, but with a different outcome. And then the play started. From the very moment the character Luke (Rob Heaps) comes onto the stage, standing with light spilling around him in the doorway, looking at the audience as if it has just hit him that his whole life has changed, I knew it was going to be heartbreaking.

Then the first scene begins, and Andy is sat attempting to play guitar on one of the beds, while Luke sits with a little black notebook on his bed, trying to write, clearly irritated by his brother's playing. This already made me laugh. As a child I remember Barney carrying around an almost identical book for his various novels or plays, completely consumed by the idea of being a writer. Joz never played guitar, but the clumsy way Andy strummed through the chords, muttering to himself and then looking up at Luke for some kind of reaction really reminded me of the way Joz pushed Barney constantly as a child. (Having said that, Joz has recently taken up ukulele 'for a laugh' and it's equally irritating).

I watched the characters talking onstage thinking, oh my god, this is literally Barney and Joz. I couldn't believe that two actors could get the interpretation of the characters so right from just looking at the script, but they did. However, this similarity didn't last, and when Andy's constant noise didn't result in Luke getting up and hitting him in the face, I knew that Barney wasn't writing about himself and Joz.

Bit by bit, the play takes a much darker route. It's almost as if you can see Andy's teenage depression intensify and defeat him, his character deterioration portrayed perfectly by Joe Robertson. Maybe deterioration is too strong a word, but Andy's problem is he understands things too well. He can work out and process situations so much faster than Luke. Luke's older, so the play leans you to thinking Luke is responsible and knows how to deal with things, but he doesn't. He has no clue what's going on, and no idea on how to prevent what he know's is going to happen. Sure, he knows Andy is going to die when he hears he's joined the army. So does Andy. So does everyone in their lives. But Andy understands that it is his easy option out, he's running away from life, in a way that I'm not sure Luke understands Andy's motives.

As for the matter of whether Andy does die or not, even Barney wasn't sure when we spoke to him afterwards, and he wrote the damn thing. But I think you have to accept it for black and white and not get too 'english' about it - he dies. You wouldn't take a suit to the hospital for someone who's in a coma. Unless you were really keen on them dying. I don't believe Luke would have the strength of character to think through taking a suit before Andy's death, he's not strong enough to deal with that emotional strain. In my opinion, he dies. And I think he should die, we've practically been spoon fed that all through the play, the sense of tragedy and hopelessness would be lost if he lived on.

But then, in a sense he does live on. He becomes a presence in Luke's monologues, and I can't accept that he disappears, because Luke says at the beginning that he walked into the room and he could see them, like a literal, visual flashback.

The writing style was perfection. The quips, the arguing, the jokes were all perfectly simple and realistic. It was a raw connection, a true to life examination of a brotherly relationship blown out of proportion and it was beautiful, you can't argue against that. It almost wasn't acting it was so real. For me, the most memorable moment was when Andy comes bursting into the room, furious that Luke told their mother about a concert Andy'd planned to go to behind her back. There was a moment where he was stood over Luke's tapes looking at him, and he looked down at the tapes and back up at him. And you just knew, as soon as you saw it. When it had happened, and the two held this long, long silence, staring at the mess around them and each other. That's when the audience knew, this physical representation of their lives and to an extent the future of their relationship. More than anything it was just a wonderfully kept moment, and a wonderfully tense and yet accepting atmosphere in the room. It was like the audience were shocked, but there was an air of 'Ok, yeah, this has happened' to the room. It was flawless. The way the two actors bounced off each other was absolutely the detail in the fabric.

I would've loved to have seen the play having not known about Joz and Barney growing up. I loved seeing it from this point of view, but to me it actually seemed like what would've happened if Joz hadn't pulled himself through those years of teenage angst, or whatever you want to call it. I want to know how tragic and differently interpreted the characters were outside of my family.

I've found this ridiculously hard, and I've gone over it so many times and it still makes little sense to me, so I think I'm going to leave it at this.

I was also asked to do an anonymous mention for someone - HIIIIII (the best thing to say I could think of)

And it a nutshell how was my day? Spent all morning with Georgina and Hannah hunting Jamie and Spencer from Made In Chelsea, of course we didn't see them, and then sold £275 worth of stuff to someone at work, I was shaking. Hello ATV brownie points. Mum and dad offered me chocolate cake and I said no, so they've been asking me if I'm ok all evening. And I feel down having just watched Never Let Me Go.

Wonderfully sad film.