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.
Tag: secrets
Sophie Found The Receipt
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.
I Lied About The Taxi
Told them I went west. I went east. With him. The receipt is still in my coat and Mia has a nose like a bloody sniffer dog.
The Shared Bathroom Queue
Four girls, one lock, someone’s boyfriend knocking like he pays rent. I gave her my concealer. She gave me the story. That’s how you leave a club with better gossip than a hangover.
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.
Champagne Then The Ugly Truth
Girls’ night started classy. Ended with who slept with whose almost-boyfriend in May. I didn’t start it. I just didn’t stop it. That’s different, innit.