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: confession
I Kept His Lighter
Not as a trophy. As proof I didn’t invent him. Sophie asked why there’s a clipper on the windowsill that isn’t ours. I said it was Mia’s. Mia said it was mine.
Shoreditch Rain Ruined The Dress
The white one. Of course the white one. He offered his jacket. I offered nothing back except a very wet anecdote.
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.
He Stayed For The Full English
I didn’t cook it. He did. In my kitchen. Wearing yesterday. Sophie walked in, said “morning”, and put the kettle on like a saint.
Banker Choked Me Too Hard
Nice suit, worse manners. Hand on my throat in his City flat and I liked it more than I should admit. Bruises next morning. Told Sophie it was a necklace.
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.
I Took Him To Tesco
Walk of whatever. We needed water and I needed concealer. He held the basket like we were married. I let him. It made the fluorescent lighting less tragic.
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.