Party Doll

Black Limousine

I've always been curious about meeting Andy Warhol, I adore his work.
"Well thank you so much" I respond with a huge smile on my face. He smiles back.
"I picked it for her", Bryan adds proudly.
"Oh Ferry boy, I'd never doubt about your fashion sense. In fact, I'll later contact you to know the name of that mysterious designer of that white suit you wore last sunday. It was fabulous" Andy answers, he is exactly as I imagined he'd be, he looks so confident about his words.
"Oh, sorry, I don't remember his name, man..." Andy rolls his eyes and answers quite tired.
"I know, that's why I said 'later', god" Bryan laughs. The white suit? I know that one!
"Giorgio Armani!" I say lightly. They both turn their heads quietly to look at me, making me blush."The suit, it's an Armani". Andy takes his glasses off and leaves them on the table.
"Armani doesn't design suits like that, dear"
"In fact, he does. Last month I had a Harper's Bazaar photo-shoot, we had to wear Armani, and the man I modeled with was wearing the exact same suit". He smiles and looks straight at me awkwardly, intimidating.
"I know who you are". He turns to look at Bryan "Why didn't you tell me you were married to Jerry Hall?" Married! Word alert.
"Well, we're not practically married yet" I giggle nervously and suddenly realize he just said my name. "Wait... you know me?"
"I have to keep up with the world darling. You're everywhere now, it's hard not to know you". And like a flash it hits me. Jesus, almost a year ago I was in Texas milking a cow and now I'm in every month issue of every goddamn magazine. We keep talking for like an hour, he's an amazing man, so iconic. Bryan and Andy stand up and leave with the excuse of doing some "men stuff", which thing sure means something with drugs.

I watch as people walk by my side. A guy from The Beatles, there's Nico, Twiggy, Helmut Newton, all drunk, high, everybody knows each other, fame is so... strange.
I stand up, grab my fur coat and put it on as I walk towards the door. The same man opens the door for me again and I exit the place. The door closes behind me and I rest my back on the wall. It's raining, luckily and surprisingly there isn't any paparazzi's yet, maybe because it's too early. I look at my watch.. 00:57 am. Yes, it's definitely early for this people. I open my purse and grab my box of matches and a cigarette, place it in between my lips and open the box. Empty, fuck. At the exact same moment I hear the sound of the sparkle produced by the friction of a match and it's box. I raise my head and see a man laying his back on the wall in front of me. He's wearing white skinny high-waisted pants, bowling shoes and a red and pink baggy shirt. His hair is too long and a mess. Lighting his cigarette, his eyes suddenly spot me. He takes a drag and frees the smoke slowly between his notorious lips as he walks towards me. He grins and lights my cigarette with one of his matches. I inhale and blow the smoke to the left.
"Thanks" I say looking at him. He lays his back on the same wall as me, looking down at his shoes.