Left them in his jacket on purpose. Went back at noon looking wrecked on purpose. He made coffee. I took the keys and a photo of his bookshelf for the blog. Efficient.
Tag: nightlife
Lipstick On A Hotel Glass
Not my shade. Not my booking. I still took the photo because the lighting was filthy in the best way.
We Did It Before Last Orders
Pub toilet. Lock that didn’t work. Someone knocked twice. I said “occupied” like I was booking a meeting room.
The Neighbours Heard Everything Again
Thin walls. Thick voice. I’d apologise if I was sorry. I’m not. They play drum and bass at noon on Sundays, so I consider us even, actually.
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.
Soho At Six Still Going
Daylight through the curtains they forgot to close. Someone ordered more drinks like time wasn’t real. It wasn’t.
I Read His Texts After
Not proud. Also not sorry. His mum, his ex, a booking for two at Dishoom. I screenshotted the Dishoom one for later.
House Party Ended At Breakfast
Someone put porridge on. Someone else was still naked. I wrote half the piece on my notes app between bites.
The Cloakroom Was Not Empty
Thought we’d been clever. We hadn’t. Some girl from Putney was already in there crying into a coat. I still finished the story. She can write her own.
Anal In The Back Of Uber
Rain on the windows, driver pretending not to notice. I was already wet from the club. He asked, I said yes. We didn’t even make it to his door.