The entire block of Regent Street was a complete and utter mess. After dear old Jamesy bought Rusty and me a hotel for the night, we got our shit together and embarked on our adventure. Our mission: find drugs. I ignored a dirty geezer trying to feel me up while we made our way into one of the parties and look around – the place was totally bonkers. Odd knick-knacks hung from strings on the ceiling, and there were strobe lights everywhere. People were pressed up against each other dancing as “Radioactive” by Imagine Dragons blared from unseen speakers. We made our way over to the make-shift bar in the corner and each grabbed a cup of jungle juice. The smell of vodka was prominent, so I took three huge gulps. I took in my surroundings as I choked down the sickeningly-sweet concoction.

“I see Poppy; want to go say hi with me?” Rusty shouted to me over the loud music. I shook my head. Poppy and I didn’t get along very well, and the only reason I decided to tolerate her was because she always knew where the parties were at. Rusty trotted away in her five-inch stilettos and I grabbed another drink. I made my way to the dance floor and jumped along to the latest techno jam.

A semi-decent chap grabbed me from behind and started to dance with me. Already feeling the alcohol, I snaked my arm up and around his neck and swayed with him, drink in my other hand. He pushed my bum against his groin and I grinded on him awhile, enjoying the sudden warmth surrounding my body. He then started to kiss down my neck, which was when I pushed him away. Fucking idiot. Walking away, and over a couple having sex on the floor, I found a spot free from horny bastards on the other side of the room. I continued to dance to the music.

While I was shaking my head back and forth, I noticed someone entering the party. He was tall, wearing a black leather jacket with a grey sweatshirt underneath. His hood was up and he had sunglasses on, like he didn’t want anyone to recognize him. Once he made his way a good twenty feet into the party, he took off his disguise. I slipped on a smile as I saw who it was. Mr. Famous had snuck his way into this, well, piece-of-shit party. He looked around while dropping his jacket on a table, and caught my eye for the second time that day. Smirking, he made his way over to me.

The smell of his cologne was over-powering as he approached me. He blatantly looked me up and down before he spoke, “Small world, babe.”

I cocked my head to the side. “Either give me some drugs or fuck off.” I put on a ridiculously cheesy smile and waited for his response. He was taken aback by my abrasiveness; guess he was used to having whatever he wanted. Well, so was I.

He started to stutter. “Uh, I-I mean I can find you some. What are you looking for?”

“Uppers, downers, screamers, laughers – whatever really. Get me some drugs, we’ll see what happens. You have five minutes to impress me, rock star.” I turned away to find my best mate.

Rusty was fighting some bulky meat-head with skull tattoos. “No, prick, Kate is definitely prettier than Pipa,” Rusty slurred as she beat on the man’s chest with her fists. I politely smiled and dragged her away before she was pounded into a pulp. “I think I might have found us some drugs. Any luck on your end?” I wiped away the eye make-up that was beginning to smear on her face.

“No, just tons of fucking vodka. Who do you have to fuck to get a spliff around here?” I laughed as she started dancing completely off beat to the tune that was playing.

“Um…” I heard behind me and faced Mr. Famous. In his hand were two bags of MDMA and three spliffs. “Is this what you were looking for? It was the best I could do given the time crunch.” He winked at me while I contemplated his being. I was always a tall girl, but even in my three-inch heels he was taller than me. His cologne was intoxicating even though the smell of alcohol and marijuana filled the room. His hands were fucking huge, and I couldn’t believe how he managed to fit all the drugs in just his palm.

I took one of the spliffs and lit it with my Zippo. “So, what do I owe you?” I blew out the smoke, and, smiling, he inhaled it. Exhaling my leftovers, he responded, “How about we start out with your name?”

I took another puff and looked at him quizzically. “It’s Toni. And this is Rusty,” I pointed to my friend who was now dancing with some Keith Richards wannabe. Funny, because I was with Mick Jagger.

“Nice to meet you, Toni. I’m Harry.” He smiled, obviously expecting some sort of reaction. I just stared on.

“What do you want for the drugs, Harry?” I grabbed the rest of the drugs and stuffed them down my bra. Couldn’t we just get on with this already? This was my routine: ask a guy for drugs, get said drugs, fuck guy in bathroom, then move on with life. Didn’t he get that?

“No charge. First one’s on me.” There he was winking again.

“Is something wrong with your eye? You seem to have a twitch there.” His smile faded and he ruffled his hair.

“How’s about a dance before you crush my ego even more?” He extended his hand and I took it. We danced along to Zedd’s newest mix, his hands never leaving my waist. He wasn’t forceful, but he made sure I knew he was there. When the song was over, he turned me around.

“I like you, Toni. We should get together more often. But it might be hard. You know, with all the traveling.” I gave him a blank look. “You know, the band! I’m part of One Direction. I’m sure you’ve heard of us.”

I almost snorted. I didn’t have time for pop culture. I hadn’t watched a TV in months, and I didn’t own a flat in order to use the internet. My time was spent trying to be young and free, not drowning in the latest headlines from “The Sun.”

“That’s sweet,” I said, grabbing his face with both my hands.

“What is?” His smile grew wider.

“That you think I care,” I pinched his cheeks and walked away.