December 27, 2015
SUVs ferried us to Tribeca where we swept past the doorman and joined another couple from the party in the elevator, naturally we were heading to the penthouse.
Made-up faces bounced off the mirrors, I admired Charlie’s dress in the harsh light. I loved the feeling of knowing I had created this, but leaving with them was a mistake. The transition back real world was already eroding the mystery, not only of the event – I wanted to keep some mystique for myself, hoping it would add an allure to my pitch going forward. Anyway. Here we were.
The split level penthouse had multiple balconies looking out at the city. The host, a single guy in his forties, worked in private equity and obviously liked to party. The techno was already playing through the entire place by the time we got there, multiple slabs of black marble served as coke platters and took their place next to bottles of champagne. Seriously. Come on.
“So how do you know Andrew?” said a young guy with slicked back hair as I went for the wine, “Were you at the party tonight?” He hovered next to me as he poured the bubbles.
“Kind of. I should probably be helping with the cleanup, I organized it.”
“Congratulations. That’s nonsense. I just had the rundown and it sounded amazing. Do you have an events company? I need to get your details, my company is always looking to do something different for clients.” I continued to hear him but his words became a background fuzz as I took in the people around the room. A mixture of the people from the party and others who stood out as the ones not in black.
“Impact was exactly what it had as parts of me all of a sudden tensed and others loosened, leaving me scampering for a bathroom.”
Generally I didn’t do a lot of coke, just a little bump here or there. I had ‘put in’ for bags but never purchased any myself. Some of the biggest fiends I knew never paid for it. Another guy who wasn’t at the event (but could have been given his black on black outfit) convinced me that the impact of a line was what I needed after the flurry of all the organization. Impact was exactly what it had as parts of me all of a sudden tensed and others loosened, leaving me scampering for a bathroom, luckily I found one tucked away in the en suite from what looked like a guest room, I felt amazing – I couldn’t actually remember the last time I had properly been – the united bowl cleansing properties of drugs. Considering myself in the mirror I found a second for self-congratulation, recognizing that the night had been a success. Perhaps I could have worn something a little more exciting, but the original goal was not to stand out. My work was already done for the night, I could relax.
The looseness of my tongue helped once I got back downstairs, meeting group after group, fielding flattery about the night and inquisition on my personal existence. Heels came off and everyone danced. More champagne. Hundreds of stories about the night built up, swirling about. I looked for moments to jump in, frustrated by the meandering conversation of others. Charlie rescued me and we came to the conclusion that it was a good idea to split a MDMA capsule, a guy had suggested it earlier but the concept made a lot more sense now.
Outside only a few lone stars hung about, most of the action came from the constant flow of planes across the sky. It’s something like three planes take off every minute. My skin was warm to touch but covered in goose bumps from the night air, even though I wasn’t cold. “Oh my god, you nailed it tonight babe. Thanks so much. I know your business is gong to kill it.” Charlie gushed.
“You guys are so inspiring, I literally can’t even believe that tonight happened. I mean, it seems so far away.”
“But that’s the beauty of it, you took us so far away, and that is what it’s about yeah? A site that lets you truly experience something different?”
“Yeah. It is. You guys are amazing.”
“What followed was one of those elated, machine gun conversations where you couldn’t agree more with what someone is saying, but feel like you need to interrupt them and say something else.”
Two older men smoked cigars on the chairs next to us, I normally hated the smell but tonight it was ok, it made me want to smoke. Alex came out, made Charlie sit on top of him and wrapped his arms around her. We quickly dispatched him to find us a cigarette. What followed was one of those elated, machine gun conversations where you couldn’t agree more with what someone is saying, but feel like you need to interrupt them and say something else. Charlie hadn’t done it in a long time and it had been at least a year for me. Probably back at Coachella.
“So if this is MDMA, what is Molly?” She asked in a way that made her feel like a mum.
“I’m pretty sure it’s the same thing, Molly is like a rebranding campaign I guess. Something new for the kids. Except, there could be anything in the stuff that people buy. All sorts of chemicals or whatever.”
“Well, this seems pretty ok.”
“Want to dance?”