I was swept away by the money, power, glamour and super VIP status of partying. I think everyone at one point in their life wants to experience high society, and there I was right in the thick of it. It’s not that I come from the lower rungs of society. Definitely not. It’s just that a few 20 something year olds (namely, us) who haven’t accomplished anything at all except good grades, can only go so far in a nightclub. So where was I? My best friend’s family member had just moved from the USA. I was with her, partying at his table, while I friends were elsewhere. The night I met him was the day he just arrived. He was completely physically unassuming, 5 feet tall in an oversized long sleeved white polo and baggy pants to match, but I could see his confidence, sense his power and his ability to control a room and everyone around him. He and I were introduced and I captivated him for the rest of the night. Or did he captivate me? He asked what I wanted to drink, and I said vodka? And he said, “No, I’m getting you a bottle of moet chandon.”

There’s something so cocky and arrogant yet appealing about a man who whips out a thick wad of cash, tackily bound by a ratty old rubber band, and proceeds to throw the bills onto the bar as if they were discarded pieces of tissue. I think it’s the way he defies convention and the rules of social civility but still manages to earn the respect, kindness and gratitude of a hundred thousand. He’s a…rake, according to this book I’m reading. Anyway, after a few swigs of champagne (Yes, I was downing it from the bottle because apparently, we’re so high up in society we chug champagne like beer. Imagine how attractive that sounds to a girl with dreams of high society, parties and money.) he introduced me to JT, who was in charge of lights, lasers and the projector screens. He brought me up to the balcony and had JT display my name for the entire club to see. Everyone knew Sweet S now. Even JT knew how to get to me. “Whenever you feel like dropping by the club, tell the people at the front desk you’re on my list.” A cheeky smile here, a wink there. Anyway back to the guy. Pretty soon he was introducing me to all the bartenders, the DJs, his business partner, all his friends, his chef friends, too.  He kept saying he was in love and that anything I wanted I could have. I’d run his new high end fine dining restaurant and even have a chain of my own things. Oh how easy it is to sway the ambitious. We kissed that night, in the balcony, on the dancefloor, and oh, right in front of my friends. It happened Tuesday, and Wednesday too. Two consecutive nights drinking, too much hard partying and kissing.

The next day I had the heaviest feeling, not just because I was severely hungover but because I knew what I had done. I knew I hurt people, even if they didn’t show it. I knew I betrayed trust, loyalty, commitment and friendship, even if they took me home, helped me sober up, made sure I was OK the next day. I didn’t deserve any of that and yet they still continued to shower me with love and care. They weren’t hurt or worried because of what I did to them, they were hurt and worried because of what I did to myself.

I think the reason why I enjoyed partying so much is because it made me forget everything - the heartache, the drama, the self-esteem issues, the pain. Once you step into a club, THAT becomes your world. The music drowns out all the noise in your head. The dim lights, the flashing lights, the lasers, they’re not enough to illuminate your flaws. You could be someone else for the night and no one would remember you the next day. No one would know your deepest darkest secrets, or the agony of suffering you face day today. I could put on a face and a pretty dress and high heels, and be the woman I wanted to be - I was strikingly beautiful, irresistibly seductive, confident and capable of handling herself in any situation. No one could dictate to me. I told THEM what to do. A bottle of champagne all for my pretty self! You can’t say no. A bottle of Patron and Grey Goose! Come on, how could you resist me? 

You think you’re living life to the fullest and enjoying, but in reality you’re running away from Life and pushing everyone and everything away. You think you’re becoming the person you want to be, when in reality you’re so far away from the person you’re supposed to be. I was never the superficial, materialistic, overly ambitious, flirtatious girl. I was never the type of person to be swept away by money and power. But for a few moments, I was. WAS. I killed my drunk alter-ego. She’s not good for me anymore. She’s a monster, and monsters, at the end of every horror story, die.

I’ve definitely learned from that experience. Of course my friends don’t believe me and I have yet to prove myself, but I am absolutely determined to change. Not just for their sake but for mine. I lost every ounce of self-respect, intergrity and dignity that night. I lost my morals, my values, my sensibilities. I lost my best friend, and nearly lost my newfound family of friends. I’m making the change though. Slowly but surely. This experience has forced me to look at my life, REALLY look at it, and help me decide what I value in life. I value friends, family, morals and values. I value myself.

I killed my drunk alter-ego, H. She’s not good for me anymore. She’s not who I want to be. She’s a monster, and monsters, at the end of every horror story, die.