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: gossip
He Stayed For Breakfast Anyway
Look, I said he could get an Uber. He made coffee instead, used my good mug, and Sophie clocked the whole thing in her dressing gown. I still haven’t decided if that’s charming or a hostage situation.
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.
Flatmates Rated The Walk-Ins
Scorecards on the fridge. Marks for height, exit time, whether they made tea. Last night’s got a 6. Harsh but fair.
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.
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.