The memory is hazy and comes in broken flashes. A brunette reaches for your hand. Pulls you out of bed. "Mischa," you shriek at her. "Wait wait wait, let me get dressed!" You go with her to some place dark. Somebody hands you a needle. It pricks as you slide it under your skin. Then a steadily rising giddiness sets on you.
There's bright lights and loud music. A man grabs your hand. A cab ride and a stairwell later you're in his bed, dress hiked up around your waist. Your blond hair is tumbling onto his face and he looks like all of his wildest dreams have come true. After, you slide off, completely drained of energy. You're so tired.