Exhibit Read Free Page B

me against this fucking cold weather. Perhaps someone with a car, or at least enough money to pay for a taxi to take us directly to where we’re meeting.
    Daniel was never going to be that person. I gave him a chance, but he fucked it up.
    As I hurry along, I wonder what he might be up to. We spent two awful Christmases together - one with his parents and one with mine, and I wonder if he’s back with them now, or still trapped in this city working, sucked in and lost in the system, like an incorrectly addressed Christmas parcel.
    From here, the city looks beautiful lit up for Christmas, but dominant too, overwhelming, at turns futuristic even. Even though it's expensive, wildly fucking expensive, overpopulated, and never quite sunny enough for my liking, I do love New York. In my limited travelling experience, I’ve never found anywhere else even like it. I wasn't born here - I don’t think many people are, but I've definitely made it my home. How long I can continue keeping it that way is another question.
    I'm one of the last to arrive, and Vicki's pretty drunk by the time I get there. I get myself a drink, sit down at the table and Vicki introduces me to anyone she thinks I haven't met before. Most of them I already have, but I laugh it off and let her continue. Someone slaps a Christmas hat on my head and hands me a tequila shot. I wouldn't normally do it, and try and hand it back, but I get chanted on and Vicki won't accept no for an answer. Fuck it, I think, and knock it back. Merry fucking Christmas.
    I melt into the sofa and sip at my wine. One glass turns into half a bottle, and suddenly I'm drunk and locked into a conversation with someone I've never met before who I think works with Vicki. He's pretty intense, and as soon as I can, I look for an excuse to get away from him. Vicki reads the situation well, sees I'm stuck and pulls me away. We go outside to smoke, a rare treat I allow myself when I've lost the willpower to resist any longer, and while we are stood there chatting, a man dressed as Santa Claus comes over and coaxes us into giving money to a children's charity. Vicki puts a couple of dollars into his bucket and asks for a kiss. I do the same so I don't look cheap, but tell him he can give the kiss to Vicki, which he does.
    Vicki smiles at me.
    “Thanks for coming”, she says.
    “What else was I going to do?” I say, and we both laugh.
    “Bitch.”
    “Happy birthday”, I say and rub Vicki's shoulder. “It's good to see you.”
    “So, how's the love life then? Chris not doing it for you?”
    It takes me a moment to work out who she’s talking about.
    “Fucking hell, him? No. He's a bit intense isn't he?”
    Vicki taps her forehead.
    “I think he's got some issues he's working through. You might have something in common.”
    “Touché”, I say and punch her on the shoulder.
    The cigarette tastes as foul as I always remember them being. I don't even know why I bother smoking sometimes, I enjoy it much less than the wanting to do it. I take one more drag, just to be absolutely sure, and then stub the rest of it out against the ash-tray.
    I stick close to Vicki when we head back inside, just in case Chris is waiting for me to rejoin him. Thankfully he’s already moved onto someone else anyway, his new victim trying her best not to look like she’s trying to escape from a weirdos grasp.
    This is it then. Another Christmas eve, another fucking year.
    I’m drunk, I’ve already lost my willpower and smoked a cigarette, there are cheesy Christmas songs playing on the jukebox, Vicki’s friends are all mental, and I can’t see any good reason not to throw myself into it completely until I either do something stupid and remember it, or do something stupid and black out. It feels like one of those nights. I mean, what’s the worst that can happen anyway?

Bain
    A ces is pumping when I get there. A thousand dollar minimum spend, members only speakeasy style, slide door entry basement bar, where