Fashion party, free champagne, bad decisions. Ended up in a suite with both of them. They took turns. I directed. Makeup was ruined. Best content I’ll never post.
Tag: heels
Beautiful at midnight. Tragic at 4am. Someone’s cousin DJ’d, the wine was warm, and I snogged a man whose name I still cannot spell. Classic, really.
Started at 22. Ended in a basement where the floor pulled my heels off. That’s the London arc and I refuse to skip either half.
She swears she asked. She didn’t. They came home with a scuff and a number in the sole. I’m keeping the number.
Missed it on purpose because he lived in Bermondsey and the night wasn’t finished. Blisters, a stolen espresso martini in a plastic cup, and a sunrise I will absolutely post.
No jacket. His socks. Sunglasses I found in the Uber. A woman with a pram looked at me like I’d invented sin. Morning.