I did shout. Sort of. She still got an eyeful, went scarlet, then made tea like nothing happened. Mia is never letting either of us forget this one.
Tag: party
She didn’t even knock this time. Just turned the radio up and sent a group-chat screenshot that said “congratulations I guess”. Fair.
So we didn’t wait. Coat still on. His hand over my mouth because the attendant was two feet away pretending not to exist.
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.
Everyone filed out. We didn’t. The sprinklers never came on. Anti-climax in every sense except the one that mattered.
Screenshots. Voice notes. A blurry photo from the smoking area. I thought I was being discreet. I was being content. There’s a difference and I keep forgetting it.
It smelled like him and a club and bad decisions. Sophie asked if I was “keeping souvenirs now”. I am. Obviously.
Not a condom. Worse. The afters bar tab with two names on it and a time stamp that proves I said I was “already in bed.” She’s weaponising it at brunch.
Recited last Friday to a girl at a lunch who turned out to be his sister. She laughed like it was funny. It wasn’t. I still finished the anecdote. Commitment to the bit.
Not because I’m sentimental. Because the lighting in that bathroom was criminal and I might need the room number if the photo does numbers. Research. Obviously.