Official night ended at two. Ours started in the kitchen with whatever was left in the freezer. Ten people. One speaker. The neighbours will survive. Probably.
Tag: afterparty
Roommate Walked In Anyway
His place in Dalston. Door wasn’t locked. Mate stood there for a second, laughed, then asked if we wanted a beer. We kept going. I came looking at the ceiling.
Footballer From Friday’s Afterparty
Not naming him. You’d know the face. Took me to the hotel next door, barely spoke, fucked like he had a match in the morning. Left a shirt. I kept it.
Sophie Caught Us Mid Thrust
Thought she’d gone to her mum’s. She hadn’t. Door opened, I was on all fours, he didn’t stop. She just said “for fuck’s sake Chels” and shut it. Breakfast was awkward.
Two Boys After The Wrap
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.
Peckham Roof Was A Mistake
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.
The Afters Had A Guest List
Until it didn’t. Door open, neighbour in a dressing gown, someone crying in the good chair. I took notes on my phone.
Hackney Wick At Half Four
The night bus felt like a confession booth. I told a stranger what I’d just done. He said “safe”. Very London.
Voice Note Hit The Group
Meant for Mia. Landed in the flat chat. Full recap of who did what in the disabled loo at Fabric. Sophie reacted with a single thumbs-down. Silence after that.
I Snogged The Best Man
Wedding afterparty in Chelsea, open bar, I was only meant to be content. Best man had a fiancée on table nine. She found me in the cloakroom redoing lipstick. Awkward doesn’t cover it.