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.
Tag: kitchen
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 Came Back For Round Two
Same night. Same man. Different room because the first one had his flatmate snoring. Efficiency.
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.
His Flatmate Walked In
We weren’t even mid-anything dramatic. Just talking too loud at 3am. The flatmate made tea, sat down, and asked if this was “a regular thing.” I said define regular. He left.
He Was The Photographer
Worked the door at a private members thing in Mayfair, then somehow ended up in my kitchen at five. Mia took a photo. I told her to delete it. She didn’t.
Afters With No Speakers
Ended up in a warehouse kitchen in Hackney Wick, twelve people, one Bluetooth dying, someone’s Deliveroo arriving at 6am. I still call it a party. Sophie calls it a cry for help.
Flat Chat Named The Regular
They’ve given him a nickname. I won’t repeat it. It’s accurate. He still thinks he’s mysterious.
Mia Covered For Me
Told Sophie I crashed at a cousin’s. I was three streets over with a man whose Instagram I still can’t find. Mia wants payment in the form of me doing her laundry. Fair.
The Landlord Texted About Noise
At 4:12. I replied at 4:13 with a heart emoji. He has not followed up. Coward.