I awoke slowly and carefully, trying not to move too quickly and cause more pain than was necessary. I had the biggest hangover known to man. I hadn’t realised just how much I’d drunk last night and dreaded to think about it… it hurt to think.
“Bloody hell…” I murmured, squinting my eyes as I attempted to block them from the floods of light streaming in through the dirty window. I could still taste the Vodka at the back of my throat and I felt nauseous. The alarm clock beside my bed informed me that it was 11:48AM. I couldn’t believe I had slept the majority of the day away… at least I worked nights.
I then thought: would I be working tonight? Had I been booked by a client? I had to know! I reached for my phone, which had fallen onto the floor by my bed, and felt all the blood rush to my head. I groaned as my fingers wrapped around the smooth edges of the rectangular handset. Clicking the home button, I noticed that I had a missed call. With a swish of my finger, I unlocked my phone and dialled the number for voicemail.
“Roxy, darling,” the woman spoke. It was Leticia, “I hope you didn’t take the news too bad last night. It’s always a sad moment when you’ve had no bookings – not that I would know – but I felt that I should let you know in advance of a big booking this evening. A new client by the name of Mr. X was very keen on your profile and has booked you for the entire evening. He’s taking you to the opera and you will then join him at his hotel room afterwards. He’s in town for one night only with business and does not want to be disappointed. Call me back as soon as you get this message; you have a long day of prepping and pampering to do. Ciao!”
I stared off into space with the handset glued to my ear as I tried to absorb the information I had just been given. I was working tonight for a very important client, going to see an opera, and was then expected to do my utmost best in the bedroom afterwards… with a hangover. Why had I drunk so much last night! I couldn’t even remember most of it. Little bits came to mind, but not a great deal.
I had no time to attempt putting the scattered puzzle pieces together; I had so much to do in such a short space of time. First thing on my list: ring Leticia.
I couldn’t help it. I had to go back there. I had to at least try and remember some parts of last night. I’d taken as many pain killers as was physically safe and had drunk so much water that my bladder was uncontrollable. I was dressed in a strapless, floor length black dress scattered with perfectly placed diamantes with my hair styled to perfection in a stunning bun, high on the crown of my head, a loose curl falling flawlessly to the side of my beautifully made up face. Around my neck hung a dazzlingly, simple pendent encrusted in sapphires that complimented the statement ring that sat on my right index finger over black satin gloves.
Unlike last night, the outside of the club appeared vacant and dead. The lights weren’t on and the thumping drum of the bass could not be heard in the street above its basement destination.
I knew that if I went inside dressed how I was no one would recognise me. But, then again, if they did I wouldn’t be treated the same as I had been previously. So I carried on walking. I kept my head down but stopped as I noticed I was about to step on the back of a Polaroid photograph. Curious, I knelt down and picked it up, turning it over to investigate the captured moment on the reverse side. I sighed.
I briefly remembered this moment. It was of me and a guy. What was his name, again? Something beginning with M… Marcus? Max? Matt? Miles? No! Milo? Yes, that was it. Milo. That had been his name. An odd name, I’d thought, but it really did suit him perfectly. The photograph was merely moments after we’d parted from the first kiss we shared together; we still held one another in our awkward arms. This brought back memories I didn’t, and shouldn’t, be thinking about right at this moment in time.
I couldn’t keep the photograph. I couldn’t have that constant reminder of the brief amorous moments I’d felt with him with fear that it would destroy me. But I couldn’t dispose of it either. Instead, I walked towards the front doors of the club and posted it through the tight space beneath the heavy doors waiting for someone to hopefully find inside. I hoped it found its way into the right hands.
I carried on down the street, dismissing the mixture of emotions that sat in a knot in my stomach. I had to focus. I had to be on my A game tonight. I had to impress Mr. X and reclaim my position in the agency. I had to be back on top, literally and metaphorically speaking.