Michael
“F*ck it’s wild in here tonight?” I said to Marco and my brother. We were at Wrecked. One of Marcos dance clubs. This one had dancers in cages high up, some on stages, both males and females and others on specialized tables with poles in the middle.
“It’s like a bunch of sardines crammed in a can,” Marco mumbled.
“What’s up with you?” Rome asked.
“I was supposed to get married in a week,” he said. He did look really pissed, more like dead inside.
“Oh sh*t, that’s right. It was going to be Anthony at the ranch and then you, a week later,” I said.
“Yep,” he said, popping the P.
“Man, you dodged a bullet,” Rome said.
“Yeah,” he smirked.
“Speaking of weddings, can you believe Lorena is still marrying that actor, at midnight? Even after we sent that video to Sasha.
