It's a drabble!
Let's have some fun :)
It's a cold, brutal world but I'm smiling at it through the lenses of my dark sunglasses as azure blue water ripples, rocking the yacht softly as if I'm living in a lullaby.
"Diego, motherfucker!" My voice is loud, the heads of the two Russian blondes whipping in my direction as their sunkissed skin glistens, their long legs dangling inside the hot tub as they lean back on their forearms.
"What is it?" My best friend lowers his aviators, eyes as blue as the Mediterranean Sea. He grabs the bottle of Dom from the wine cooler and walks over the curved lounge's cushions on the deck below until he meets me on the upper one, his bare feet tan onto the Burmese Teak.
"Wanna head to ST for dinner and a fucking party?" I ask him.
Diego stares into the distance, his eyes on Île Saint Honorat peeking around the horizon.
"Mmh, dunno, man. I thought we were going to Cannes tonight? Have the chef come up with some kickass lobster and go to PALM Club?" His hand rakes through his chin-length black hair, the Hermès bracelets dangling around his wrist, showing off tan lines.
"I'm kinda sick of those two, to be honest." I nod toward the Russian chicks.
"Fuck you for your first-world problems," Diego chuckles.
"Pussy isn't first-world, Mr. Middle Class," I tell him, snatching the bottle from his hands. The bubbles burn all the way down my throat, the alcohol hitting me hard at ten in the morning. "It's an all kinds of color collar's man's problem."
He laughs.
"I've never seen you wearing anything with a collar," Diego says.
"I wouldn't even let my fucking dog wear a collar," I reply.
"I think your housekeeper sees your dog more often than you do."
"Shut up, Diego." I put the bottle against my lips again, swallow down champagne as if it's San Pellegrino.
"Now," I sigh, running a hand through my hair. It feels hot and I want to take a dip into the bottomless sea below. "Let us think of some strategies on how we can ditch these two." I nod my head to the girls.
"We picked them up in San Tropez so I guess your plan works," Diego shrugs.
"That's my boy." I hand Diego the bottle before I go tell the Captain to change course.
It's my world, so I get to fucking choose who lives in it.
