My First Love: The Beginning

*so my computer is being dumb and not letting me upload the pictures with the midgets but I will post them as soon as it let’s me*

Sorry I put my blog on private the past two days. I wanted to write something good for you all and here it is:

Yesterday, I worked from 1-6 pm which was lovely because I have been working until 10:30 pm every night. I called Brandon and he told me he would pick me up in 30 minutes. We went to the Blind Monk, a cute wine dive that serves small tapas, and smoked and talked. It was really lovely and he looked so handsome. Some friends were at Buccan so we stopped there to say hi before heading home. I’m not going to get into detail but Brandon and I got into our first real fight which was honestly my fault for being a crazy bitch. 

“I think I’m going to go home.”, he said, staring at me with those big brown eyes. 

I stoically nodded.

He got out of bed and put his shirt and jeans on and made his way to the door. 


“Noo, wait”

I got out of bed and stood in front of him naked. I apologized and we talked it out. It truly was my fault and I realized that. Nothing seemed worse than not waking up next to him. When we sleep next to eachother at night, our bodies are constantly intertwined. If I get up in the middle of the night to go have a cigarette, I return to Brandon asleep with his arms stretched out and waiting for me. 

I’m so in love with this man. Brandon is like the guy in the rom-coms that is always consoling the female lead. He’s the character that everyone is yelling at the heroine, “NO DON’T PICK THE JOCK! PICK BRANDON!”. He’s the one that you live happily ever after with. 

He’s my happily ever after. 

I never in a million years thought I would meet someone else after my first love. Here’s the story.

We met in LA. I just returned from living in San Francisco a month and Kelsey was in town from West Palm Beach. I loved when she came to town. My partner in crime. She always stayed with me at my Franklin and Fuller apartment . 

It was a Saturday and I was so excited for nighttime to come around. I had been invited to the Interview magazine party and it was Sunny’s birthday. Kelsey and I started getting ready at around 9. I picked my signature look which is a black dress with a leather jacket or blazer over it. Black blazer, black tube dress, and Jefferey Campbell boot heels. Kelsey picked my American Apparel black bodycon dress and black combat boots. 

Kelsey and I at the Interview magazine party.

We took an uber to the party and tossed back a couple glasses of champagne upon entrance. We started getting giggly after 20 minutes and one of our friends asked if we wanted to go to a certain London-themed club. The party was a bit dull so we followed our friends into an Uber SUV. 

We pulled up, blaring Drake and screaming aggressive lyrics at the top of out lungs. Kelsey and I only had a half hour before we had to go to Sunny’s birthday. 

We walked in and got drinks. I fucking hated it. It was way too loud and rambunctious. Every bitch from UCLA was there in their tight-ass Herve Leger dresses. 

Fucking kill me now.

I told Kelsey we were gonna take two shots then leave. She agreed immediately, hating the club’s vibe. We chased our shots with cranberry and double cheek kissed our friends goodbye. 

As we waited for our car to arrive, I lit a Marlboro light and noticed a group of about 4 guys next to us on a bench. They were clearly inebriated and not trying to hide the fact that they were talking about us. I rolled my eyes. 

One of them slurred, “Are you two girls heading out for the night?”

“Yeah”, I replied, taking a nice long drag of my cigarette. 

“Too many old men?”, said a much more eloquent voice.

I turned around to look at who’s voice this belonged to. He was sitting down but you could tell he was tall. He had a stockyish body, black buzzed hair, and huge brown eyes. He was beautiful. 

“Not enough.”, I smirked back. 

He threw his head back and laughed.

“Whoever you are, I have to get your number.”, The Handsome Guy stated. 

He introduced himself (we will refer to him as “The Ex” from now on) and invited us to a house party up Doheny.  I explained that we couldn’t because of Sunny’s birthday but that he should send me the address in case we got bored. 

Our car pulled up and I said goodbye. As I began to walk away, he caught my arm. 

“I really do hope that you come.”

I blushed and got into the car.

I thought about The Ex all night but didn’t text him or go to that party. I didn’t want to have sex with him that night and I knew that in my drunken state, I would’ve had no willpower. 

I didn’t hear from him for a couple days and I chalked it up to just another number in my phone. The Ex’s name randomly appeared on my iPhone screen and I got tingly. He asked me to go to a concert with him on Wednesday and I agreed. We had mutual friends (I knew this because I stalked the shit out of his Facebook) so I thought he must’ve been normal.

Wednesday rolled around and he texted me that he would grab me at 6 pm. 

“What concert is it?”

“It’s a surprise :)”

Fuck, what if he takes me to something shitty?

I got ready and he texted me that he was downstairs. I got in my elevator and checked myself out in the mirror. I opted for simple and sexy with my skin tight black jeans, light blue racer back tank top, and my boot heels. I climbed in his BMW and we took off.

“I’m kind of surprised that you agreed to go out with me”, he said, not taking his eyes off of Sunset Blvd.

“And why’s that?”

“Because you’re probably the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen..”

I blushed and joked, “Flattery will get you nowhere. Well… Maybe it will get you a hand job but I’m really bad at giving them soo…” 

He chuckled. 

“But really, you don’t know me at all. Do you always go out with strangers?”

I stared at him and noticed how sexy he looked with his stubble and still being in his work clothes. 

“I figured I might be getting myself into a Ted Bundy situation so I looked you up on Facebook. How do you know ‘So-and-so’?”, I asked.

“We went to highschool together. He’s kind of an asshole.”

I nodded with a smile.

We arrived at the Wiltern and parked. 

“I can’t wait until you hear this band. They’re sooo good”

I read the queue.


I just discovered them and had already fallen in love. The lead singer sounded like an angel to me. He had somehow picked my favorite band without knowing it.

“Dude.. No way.”

“You know of them?”, he raised his eyebrows. 

“I mean, ‘Candles’ is my ringtone.”

We went in and got drinks from the concession. They had vodka, thank God. We found our viewing area and talked until the waif-like singer took the stage.

“Hey guys. We are Daughter. Ehh.. I hope you like the show.”, she said softly. 

They started to play the opening strings of “Run” and The Ex and I continued to sip our drinks. We were standing next to each other and kind of swaying around. I was floored that he had brought me to see Daughter.

While I put on my shoes /He will button his coat /And we will step outside /Checking that the coast is clear on both sides.

I really liked The Ex already. He was smart, funny, and good looking. We smiled at each other as we sang along to the lyrics.

“Yeah.. This one is called ‘Candles'”, the lead singer spoke into the mic.

YEASSS! “Candles” was my favorite song at the moment. It’s soft and romantic but has a playful beat.

That boy, take me away, into the night /Out of the hum of the street lights and into a forest/ I’ll do whatever you say to me in the dark/ Scared I’ll be torn apart by a wolf in a mask/ of a familiar name on a birthday card

The Ex would later tell me that he fell in love with me the moment he saw me smiling with my eyes closed and singing along to this song.

I felt The Ex grab me and hold me to his chest. It was pretty dark inside of the theater except for the lit up stage masking a blue glow on his face. He looked into my eyes and kissed me. It was so incredibly romantic.

Blow out all the candles, blow out all the candles/ “You’re too old to be so shy” he says to me so I stay the night/ just a young hard confusing my mind/ but we are both in silence/ wide-eyed, both in silence/ wide-eyed

I twirled out of his arms and danced with him. Who even was this guy?

After the band close with their rendition of “Get Lucky”, we walked out hand in hand. He opened my door and I made some comment about chivalry not being dead. He drove with a hand on my lap.

30 minutes later, he pulled up to my apartment. I wanted so badly for him to follow me upstairs and have me.  But I liked him too much so I knew that I couldn’t sleep with him if I wanted him to stay around. We kissed and said good night and he told me he would text me.

What a little cliché! He abided by the three-day rule. I had wanted to text him so badly but I know how to play the game and I would have rather dunked my face in acid.

The Ex’s name flashed on my screen and read: I want to c u again. What’re you doing tonight?

I waited an hour before texting him back. 

Hmm, undecided. A couple things going on tonight. What about you?, I typed back. 

A couple minutes later, my phone beeped with another text from him. I opened it excitedly.

My friends and I got a table at Beachers if you want to join us. 

I pursed my lips.

Sounds fun. I’m going to talk to my friends and see what the verdict is. Maybe we will stop by. 

Yeah, let him think I have a life and that I haven’t been looking at his Facebook once a day, waiting for his text. 

I asked my friends what they were doing and saw that a couple of them plan to go to a “model dinner” with a promoter in Hollywood. A model dinner is when a club promoter sets up a deal with a restaurant and he will bring a bevy of beauties in exchange for a free dinner and drinks before going to the club. I fucking love that model dinners and still go to them when I’m in LA or New York. Free food and cocktails at some of the nicest restaurants? Fuck yeah, I’m there. My friends all went to them too so it was fun. 

I feel like I need to say this. I know I do write about drinking a lot but I don’t want people to think that I am an alcoholic. It’s just that every single venue in LA, literally everywhere, sells alcohol and it’s the thing to do at these places. It’s normal to drink at basically anytime of the day in California. One of my friends who worked in a building on Sunset would regularly go out to Soho House during his lunch break and have a shot of Don Julio 1942. 

This Promoter usually did Teddy’s on Saturday, which is a level higher than Beachers, but he informed us that we were going to Beachers that night.

Fuuuuck. I didn’t want to arrive like this! I wanted to drop in later. I want him to wonder where I am, goddammit!

Beachers Madhouse is a madhouse in every sense of the word. It’s a wild place filled with performing midgets dressed like celebrities, naked girls, and Beacher himself in a tux. If you remember the infamous performance of Miley Cyrus and Robin Thicke at the VMAs, then you may have seen Amazon Ashley on stage twerking. She used to perform at Beachers all the time. The place was like something Lewis Carroll dreamed of while on crack. 


 We came in and were brought to the middle table which has the best view of the stage. A midget dressed like an Oompa Loompa from Willy Wonka flew in on a zip line and lowered himself on top of our table with a bottle of vodka and champagne. I asked him to give me a hug and take a picture with me. The midget grabbed my ass while the picture was being taken and scurried away laughing. The midget who worked there were the funniest guys in the world. A friend of mine invited one of them to an after party one time. My friend had made a line of cocaine on the edge of the countertop and as he was talking to someone, the midget walked by the counter and discreetly did the line without stopping.

I was dancing on the couch next to our table to Rihanna’s cover of Ginuwine’s “Pony” and I felt someone grab my legs. I looked down and it was him. I jumped down and kissed him hello. 

The promoter shot me a look.  No guys were allowed at the table of pretty models unless they were spending 10k. I told The Ex that I would meet him at his table in a second.  I continued dancing at my table for another 20 minutes before joining him and his friends so I wouldn’t seem to eager. The friend who had slurred to me outside of the Londonish club that I had been to enveloped me into a bear hug. 

“SO YOU’RE THE EX’S NEW GIRL!”, he yelled over the music. 

I just giggled and shrugged. 

The Ex and I danced and took a shot. I was getting pretty hammered so I excused myself to the bathroom to do a few bumps alone. It’s funny because during that time, I never bought cocaine. I had a dealer who had a crush on me and would give me little vials for free when he would come over and complain about his life. He would spill his new samples on to my glass coffee table and would share a bottle of wine with me. Coke kept me going and going. I loved it.


And I was back. 

I came back out to see The Ex waiting for me as everyone was getting ready to leave. 

“Hey! He’s having an after party. Come with me?”

He offered his hand and we staggered out and into the SUV. I sat on The Ex’s lap, smirking every time we hit a bump in the road. Cherub was being blared in the car.

We arrived at a huge, Mediterranean-looking house on Franklin and jumped out. The Ex led me to the kitchen and we cracked open a bottle of Grey Goose. More and more people started showing up. The Ex stared at me like a piece of meat as we stood a few inches away from each other. I have him a sultry look that I had down to a science by now with all the photo shoots I used it in. 

Without saying anything, he grabbed my hand and took me downstairs to the screening room. I stood against the wall and whispered, “Hi”. 

He lunged at me and picked me up as if I weighed nothing and held me against the wall. I wrapped my legs around him and kissed him hard. At that moment, I didn’t care if he never called or text me again. I needed him. I felt like our sexual tension was so built up that if we didn’t have sex we would’ve exploded into a million pieces. 

Tune in tomorrow for the rest the story…



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