you, me, xtc

If Bubbles hadn’t reached out to me, I wouldn’t have reached out to him. I swear. But he did. Days after I left his place on Christmas morning, I received a text: “Wyd?”

He sent it in the middle of the night and I had been sleeping. I wasn’t offended by the late hour — we were both nightowls who regularly indulged in nightlife; it was our shared lifestyle.

Although I planned to stop seeing him after he told me he had a girlfriend, I didn’t tell him that. I wanted to give myself the space to change my mind. If I’d verbalized it and then gone back on my word, I would look weak — and I couldn’t let that happen because I was already in a vulnerable position.

So, although I missed his “wyd” text, I took advantage of the open door. He really does like spending time with me, I thought. 

A few nights later I hit him up while I was out partying and asked, “Wanna come over?” It was bad timing. He told me he had to catch a flight early the next morning. “Safe travels,” I said back within seconds of getting his text. I was bummed.

About two weeks later he hit up to tell me he was “back in LA.”

I was ready to dive right back in. My anguish over the long distance girlfriend seemed to dissipate by then. I didn’t care anymore. I just wanted to see him again. Badly.

We picked right back up where we’d left off. We’d already hung out twice when I texted him on a Friday afternoon inviting him to link up again that night. “Let’s go out tonight then fuck to Lil Yachty’s new album,” I proposed. 

I brought my friend *Diana and we met up with Bubs and a group of his friends. The night started innocently, with us convening at a trendy bar in Koreatown. I thought it’d be the usual — some cocktails, maybe shots, good conversation and dancing before calling it a night and going back to my place. But once his friends trickled out and Bubs, Diana, and I were left, someone had the idea to go to a rave. 

We were all sipping drinks at the crowded downtown warehouse when Di asked, “Wanna take ecstasy?” 

After a few minutes of asking around, we were pointed in the direction of a dealer dressed in all black, wearing a hood over his head. We told him what we wanted and after a quick Venmo transaction the substance was in our hands. I popped the pill in my mouth and downed it with my mixed tequila drink.

Around 30 minutes later I felt the sensation of the drug kicking in. I’d separated from Bubs to use the bathroom and that’s when the effects crept up on me. I began firing off texts to him.

“Bad boy, you left the spot I told you to stay.”

“I wanna fuuuuuck.”

“I’m so fucking horny you have no idea.”

“As soon as I find you we’re leaving.”

He soon emerged and I was in a trance, ready to pounce on him. When the three of us exited the warehouse, the January chill smacked me in the face. It wasn’t uncomfortable the way it would’ve been if I were sober. Instead it felt cool and refreshing against my skin.

I snapped this photo in my elevator before meeting Bubs in Ktown

I was dressed in a black Good American leather midi-skirt, black Steve Madden leather platform boots, a black crop top and an Aritzia varsity jacket. We shuffled through the desolate streets of DTLA — which were littered with tents and unhoused people — to find Diana’s parked Mercedes Benz. I slithered into the backseat, writhing and whining about how desperately horny I was. “I’m gonna fuck you, just wait,” Bubs assured me.

The next thing I knew, Coolio’s Gangsta’s Paradise was blaring through the speakers as we raced back to Ktown, where Diana lived in a high-rise apartment. Bubs was in the passenger seat and mercifully turned to slip his hand up my skirt, fingering me to hold me over until we got home.

As soon as I stepped foot in Diana’s apartment I started taking off my clothes. Bubs and I were heading toward the couch to begin our sex marathon when Di intercepted, shouting, “Wait, wait, wait!”

She spread a big blanket over her large sofa and then permitted us to do our thing. She seemed to disappear after that, but I was later informed that she had been nearby, watching us from behind a cracked door, with Bubs’s consent.

Hours passed but they felt like minutes. Bubs and I were planted on the couch, fucking each other’s brains out between intervals of conversation. At one point he mentioned our mutual peer from his hometown, who I knew through a friend. “Don’t say anything about us to *Margaret,” he said. I was fully aware he was trying to safeguard his long-distance-girlfriend against our relationship. I played coy.

I took this selfie in Diana’s car at the beginning of the night

“Why?” I asked, pretending not to know. I was basically daring him to mention her and ruin our amorous, drug-fueled night. He knew better than to explicitly utter a word about her. “Just… when we’re together, we’re together,” he pitifully explained. “I’m a private person. I like to keep a tight circle,” he added. I was satisfied with his effort. At least he was trying to say something sensible.

We pivoted back to our lovefest. “I love your lips,” I told him between kisses, while my head was nestled in his neck. 

“Why?” he asked.

“Because they’re little.”

“What else?”

“They’re pink.”

“What else?”

“They kiss me everywhere.”

“They kiss you everywhere, huh? Your lips, your butt…” Bubs began to list. I was giddy like a little girl. I loved how close I felt to him in that moment, not just physically but emotionally. We were connected.

Later he whipped out his phone and the flash was in my face as I performed fellatio and he instructed me to “look at the camera.” During another moment he recorded me as I put my hands on the floor and twerked in his lap. 

Once we wore ourselves out, I shouted “goodnight” to Diana and fell asleep straddled on top of him.

Around 11am Bubbles and I got in an Uber and went to my apartment in Hollywood to have more sex and get more sleep. As the drugs wore off I began descending from the high. “I feel anxious,” I admitted to him as he took my clammy hand in his. 

“It’s the drugs,” Bubs told me before pulling me in for a tight hug as we lay in my bed. “Come here. Don’t feel anxious.” More sex ensued.

Finally, I had to pull myself together for an afternoon shift working from home at my cushy writing job. Bubs sat on the edge of my bed and I stood before him with my arms around his neck. We kissed. “That was fun,” he said as a punctuation to our long night. 

Bubbles left and I replayed the whole thing in my mind. There was no turning back now. I was fully infatuated.

* indicates name has been changed