5:30 AM and the sun was creeping up over Camden. I'm stumbling up the street towards my flat. How I haven't fallen in these boots it's beyond a miracle! One plus to getting home as the sun rises, the approaching daylight helps me look for my card key. Among scraps of paper with phone numbers and the odd receipt, I could enter the building and maybe get some shut eye before Camden became a tourist highlight.
In the lift, I couldn't help but look at my reflection. Not because I was vain (I am) but because, as I was sobering up, I hated what I saw. I was becoming a train wreck. I was out every night drinking, occasionally doing drugs, not working, abandoning my family and friends. Who would have thought one girl could have such an influence.
As I shut my front door, I dumped my keys on the sideboard in the hallway; I walked into the lounge and fell onto the large corner sofa. The ever rising sun peeping through the blinds.
After 5 minutes, I sat up and grabbed the half read magazines on the table, re-reading the headlines that made me throw the magazines down to start with
'Fielding losing control'. 'Noel Fielding & Lily Gray – 21st century Sid & Nancy?'
I had never seen it as losing control, I always saw it as having a great time with friends. Friends I would never normally socialize with, friends I knew nothing about.
I threw the magazines back on the table, along with my phone – 14 missed calls from Lily. That's a record. I took off my boots and my leather jacket and headed to bed.