I went to the toilet, it just made me feel worse. There were three anorexic, under-aged girls in skinny jeans and cool jewellery discussing how they were going to have their favourite song lyrics tattooed on their backs. They eyed up my bland outfit with turned up noses as I washed my hands feeling incredibly out of place. I decided to go for a wander and see how many stupid hats I could count. I’d got to eight and a crap wig when I bumped into Piers at the bar with a complicit look on his face. ‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking’ I asked. ‘Dickheads’ he said in his Welsh lilt, nodding towards the trendies filing past like they owned the place. I cracked up laughing and accepted his offer of a drink.
We stationed ourselves the bar pointing out the best and worst outfits from the prop cupboard. He was very attractive, tall, messy dark hair and big, expressive eyes. He was hilarious too. We must have been talking for over an hour, unaware that all the others had come for a gawp. I was aware of Piers moving closer to me, under the guise that he couldn’t hear my voice. I could feel that little electric spark you get when your sexual energy collides with someone else’s. ‘Can I kiss you?’ he whispered in my ear sending a shiver through my body.