I woke up this morning in 2014, quite hungover, head throbbing. I remembered having a bottle of champagne still in my fridge, hoped to God it was still there. I asked the guy next to me in bed if he wanted to drink some champagne.
We sat in my kitchen in our underwear smoking cigarettes by my window, drinking champagne, and listening to the Beyonce album. He was beautiful. I kept smiling and looking at his cute little face.
I rang in the New Year's at a house party with some friends and from there went to Metropolitan. I tried to convince my friends that we should go to Sugarland since it was the rumored last night of the place. As I was doing this, I ran into this guy, the guy that I ended up spending today in bed with drinking champagne. I had met him earlier, a couple months ago. He had been sitting on a stoop outside Eastern Bloc and I thought he was beautiful and so I went and sat next to him and started flirting with him. My friend came and cockblocked the situation, sat with us and started flirting with the guy as well. I went inside to the bar, not having any interest in whatever sort of competitive games were going on. The two of them went home together. I didn't even remember who this guy was when I ran into him last night - he had to remind me of this situation to let me know how we knew each other. He asked if we could talk. I said sure, but that I didn't want to do anything with him, that I don't really have much interest in hooking up with people my friends have. He said, fine, let's just talk. We smoked cigarettes outside. I told him I was going to Sugarland. I asked him if he wanted to join us. The two of us started walking there while everyone else was trying to figure out about getting a car there for some reason. As we walked under the BQE, he told me that he wanted me to take him back to my house. He was sassy, forward, and really fucking sexy.
So, of course, we did not go to Sugarland.
We lay in my bed all day, leaving the house to eat some brunch at Tandem and pick up some more Andre from the liquor store. He said his name meant fire in German. I started googling what that was, having forgotten again his name. We slept and cuddled and enjoyed each other's bodies all day. There was no more daylight when he finally left. I walked him to the train, cute, little guy, kissed him goodbye, and walked back to my house, alive, ready for what this year will bring.