(1995) It’s been a year since you met now, you were on the phone with him while hiding out in the bathroom with the cord twirled in your index as your sister banged on the door for you to hurry up with the phone. You ignored her, and continued to talk with Alan

“Why don’t you come over?” he asked, leaning against his kitchen counter with a smile on his face as he spoke to you, the phone up to his ear

why don’t you? It’s not like your not an hour away, there’s this wicked dream of leaving your hometown. Londons calling you. There’s this special place, where all are welcome and boys and girls can be queens every single day. It’s called Alan’s place, you go there every few months. If your mother knew she’d scream and say, “oh my god! What have you done?” If she knew her baby was getting drunk and falling in love recklessly

and that’s how you got here, at Alan’s house in London, sitting on a chair on his porch as he brought a beer for the two of you

“How was the car ride?”