Bits & Pieces

It's another Friday night, and I've just come from yet another glamorous party in Greenbelt. My friends and I were less than stunning in our run-down jeans and monochrome t-shirts, while were surrounded by loads of gorgeous boys and girls with high, high, high hair and little, little, little dresses. Wandering in and out of the crowd, it felt as though I was in limbo - the people there, though beautiful, had a uniform blankness about them: their eyes were glazed over, or red, from too much drink. They stood apart from each other, trying to appear cool, bored, nonchalant. None of them really looked at each other, except for cursory glances to check if the ones around them were as pretty as they were, then back again to their pink drinks.

Why do they seem so empty?, I ask my best friend Glenn. We'd just finished meeting up with Myrza (who now has a hot boyfriend, Andreij, half-Polish part-owner of M Cafe), and we found ourselves at Max Brenner, eating exorbitantly priced banana fritters in chocolate. Because they are, he nods, taking a drag from his cigarette. I came from that kind of life, he confides. You're always looking for something you can't quite define, because you feel vacuous within yourself.