The entire night is a haze to me.
I remember leaving the flat, and The Lava Bar, and I can vaguely recall the nightclub. As each step brings me closer (or further) to home, I try desperately not to drop my cheeseburger on the pavement.
Just a few steps away from my street, it dawns on me: where’s everyone gone? How come they let me walk home on my own…and on my stag night? I could’ve been arse-r***d! Useless f*****g friends. Typical. They get me drunk but get themselves even drunker in the process.
I hope Aimee’s all right. Her friends better not have let her walk home on her own. I’ll go ape-s**t. I’ve told her time and time again to take a taxi—even if it’s just a few minutes’ walk. Even if it’s still light. I mean, it’s just not worth it. Not for a woman. And definitely not to save y
