Why did you agree to this? Especially when you're out of cigarettes. You've taken just one step, and already you feel out of place, you feel eyes staring. You meet a boy, you have something in common, but even he notices you don't belong. You're trying to dance, but this song is so old and the lights haven't caught your eye. You pretend to be friends, to satisfy the cravings, to get through the night. But that barely helps, because you can still feel the stares (not like it matters, admit it, you're amazing.)Before you know it, you're reopening your eyes and you're at the strangest place you've ever been. Downstairs is so dark, and all you can make out is the silhouettes of naked bodies, grinding to the slow jams. You get chatting at the bar, and between the tequila shots and fake names you get asked if tonight is all you've imagined it to be. You shrug, smile and tell the truth, that for some reason it really is, it's amazing. After a while, you're slowly stumbling up the stairs, towards the bright lights. You cast your eyes upon the stage, and without realising, you're mesmerised. You always thought that the transparent, plastic pumps were a cliche. Turns out they're not. The morning lurges on, more drinks, more anatomy. The boy sitting next to you hasn't blinked since you sat down and now you're being followed around by some weird middle aged guy. Every body you set eyes on is perfectly toned, with the smoothest looking skin, but it's probably the atmosphere that's setting aside the flaws. The sweat of aching bodies is makes the air smell sweet, you don't want to leave.
Before you know it, you're passing out in the front seat of the car and you can still taste vomit on your breath. The car keeps swerving between lanes and you're waiting for those red and blue flashing lights, or the black nothingness, but neither comes. Finally you're awoken to the early morning sun and a familiar place. There's barely any time to take off your dress before you collapse on the bed, goodmorning.
S.
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