Then I go to the gym on my own and I choose to go to the gym in Covent Garden (where I haven’t been for more than a year) and the less said about this gym session the better. Not that I won’t say things if it’s necessary at some point though.
After leaving the gym I walk around Soho on my own for a bit and this is what’s going through my head:
today I want to be this guy, let’s call me W, and I live in London and I go out a lot and meet people that I don’t care about and they don’t care about me and hang out with them…and I take lots of drugs and drink lots of alcohol, for no particular reason really, I just need to maintain a buzz to get me through the day. Yes I have slept with people for money, not because I needed it, but because I wanted the experience, nothing really matters to me anyway, nothing has any significance. I don’t know if I’m unhappy, I can’t quite tell what my feelings are, so I’m not down on myself or anything. And sure, there was a time when I wasn’t like this, when I wasn’t destroyed, and maybe I was happier then, but I don’t ponder – the past doesn’t concern me and neither does the future. So one Monday morning, at 6am after having spent the night in some bars in a club at a party somewhere – I don’t remember / I don’t want to remember – I find myself at a phone box on Charing Cross Road. Somebody walks past me and shouts my name, somebody I don’t recognize, I don’t acknowledge this, I look down while I’m dialing L’s number – L being the last person I knew cared about me, despite all the things that I am and all the things that I do. I’m pretty sure that L loved me and I told him I loved him to, but I never meant it and we both knew that. So L picks up the phone and I tell him that I’m tired of all this, I want to come see him, I want to get out of here, it’s over, I don’t want to be a story anymore. And I ask if he can see us living together again, not in London of course, we can even leave the country together, I know that this is what I really want, and things will be different this time. I’m selling this dream to L, even though he’s been there before when I changed my mind, but this time I mean it, I honestly won’t go back. After we hang up, I walk back home where I lie in bed, awake for the rest of the morning, I’m too tired to sleep, for a while anyway. Later in the evening, I forget this conversation with L ever happened, I don’t want to think about it, I’m not ready to give things up just yet, I screen six of his calls in the next couple of days, until he doesn’t call again.
But I’m not W and there is no L of course, so on Saturday afternoon I go back home and watch TV for seven or eight hours and then I go to bed.
When I wake up I’ve received a text from Donnell, who’s in Sydney of course and Donnell says:
“So I’m here, at the Harbour Party, weather is amazing and it’s beautiful. Wish you were here it’s not the same being pretentious on my own. Have already been asked by a random where my Greek friend is. I will keep you informed…oh this is my Oz number”.
With a quick translation, this text tells us:
“So I’m here, at the Harbour Party, weather is amazing and it’s beautiful (translation: I’ve __ 4 __ and 2 __ that some random Brazilian passed to me, I’m completely off my face and everything seems lovely. Also, I love you, I love you all). Wish you were here it’s not the same being pretentious on my own. (translation: I know you’re my best friend but, boy, you come across as a conceited muscle mary when we go out. Strangely, I do appreciate that) Have already been asked by a random where my Greek friend is (translation: well done, your reputation as a trashy scene queen precedes you 10,562 miles away from home). I will keep you informed…oh this is my Oz number”.
We miss Donnell. Extra points to anyone going to Mardi Gras who recognizes him and walks up to him and mentions London Preppy or calls him Donnell.
Here are pictures of Donnell later tonight to assist the search.
I have not bothered with many clothed ones, I'm guessing he won't be wearing a shirt much. Oh I bet he's wearing that belt though, look out for the belt.