Part of me needed her support because I still had to make it through the rest of the event, but a bigger part of me wanted her to leave because then I could do something shameless and reprehensible with that hot guy. I usually was a mild, well-behaved woman, but I was tempted to go full floozy for the evening. I mean a girl can have herself a solid one-night stand once in her life and not have to enter the Slut Olympics, right? Just as soon as Kylie said they were leaving, Alec swooped up behind her, kissed her neck, and while he didn’t think I saw it, I so saw him give her ass ‘the scoop.’ Damn married sex looked fun.
“So, Kylie break the news?” He was jovial, not quite the Alec I was used to. “We’re heading home. The runway show was epic. I hope you’re proud of yourself. Truly hate to be leaving, but we’re boring married people now.”
Alec wasn’t necessarily an asshole anymore but had assholish tendencies he tempered for Kylie. I always was on edge around him but since becoming a father he was much less Alpha Male and much more Daddy Day Care. Again, longings gripped me.
“Safe trip home, guys. Kylie, I’ll call you in the morning.” I widened my grin, we all exchanged hugs and air kisses and they were gone.
My tummy bottomed out a little to have my partner in crime ride off into the sunset with her man, so I turned my attention back to the table where the hot guy sat with his cronies. Just at that moment, I caught him staring at me. I’d be lying if I said my vajayjay didn’t heat up and get a little wet. Damn, I was so love-starved I was ready for anything reckless. I braved a few reporters, some models, Maralis our PR guru, and another fashion designer as I fought my way back to my lukewarm Guinness and the man I’m going to screw. So when I caught Mr. Fuck Me Now staring straight at me, I almost hiked my skirt up and shimmied down on him.
“That was absolutely unreal,” he gushed… or it was the beer? Not sure.
“Thanks?” My already flushed complexion must have fired up, not only was he sex with two legs, he had genuinely liked the show.
“Did you design all those clothes?”
“Yes, and I choreographed the show.” Hell, I had no intention of being humble, I’d worked my ass off.
“You’re a freaking genius.” Wow… okay.
“Thanks, it was a lot of hard work, trial, and error, and you know models.” I flashed him a sexy grin.
“And a lot of skin…” His face flushed red. “Very sexy.”
I laughed. The skin was a conscious choice. Since I studied some of the traditional St. Patrick’s Day rituals, I found that during St. Patrick’s Day lent restrictions for Catholics were abolished for the day, leaving revelers to drink and imbibe as much as they pleased. Having been deprived of alcohol for lent, most drank heavily which would lead to sex, lewd, and lascivious behavior, and a boom in the population nine months later. So that was the theme I chose for the runway show.
I dressed it all in green and literally had a drunken dance party on stage. The tattered clothes, the nipples poppin’, the bump and grind on all sorts of gender-fluid folks was meant to be a celebration in bacchanalian fashion. I was going for arousing and scandalous. Sex sells and since we weren’t really selling sex we were in the clear. In fact, our message had a deeper and contrary meaning. The message printed in the program was also a chance for members of the audience to feel a little uneased by the wild fashion and floor show which all circled around to a more sobering message of homelessness and the uncertainty of the urban outdoors homeless youth often braved. The message read:
Thank you for coming to the St. Patrick’s Day runway fundraising event for Every Dream. We hope you love our wild bacchanalian dancers and the unbridled joy of a midnight revel. While the fashion and dance are meant to evoke the spirit of a St. Patrick’s Day celebration, we hope you see the deeper meaning of what the wild streets of New York might be like for a frightened youth left out to fend for themselves. What if their clothes became tatters and no longer protected their modesty? What if denizens of the city took liberties as they fought to find safe refuge in the urban jungle? We hope our runway today not only tantalizes your imagination but also opens your mind to what others might be facing.
While the runway show is brash and bold, life on the streets isn’t a celebration. The mentality needed to survive it is much like the models will present. A homeless youth might have to be a little confident, a little angry, and a little drunk to survive it while they almost always are a little lost. If you donate to Every Dream tonight, you will ensure that every child has the right to dream, be safe, and live to see themselves reach their full potential. Thank you for your generous donation.