Confession #14237 – The Candy Cartel in Room 312

I came to Vegas to forget about my breakup. I did not come to Vegas to accidentally become the unofficial plug for half a floor of a mid-tier hotel. It started in the most innocent, Vegas way possible: pool party, overpriced watered-down cocktails, and a girl in a neon bikini who introduced herself as “Peaches” because “no one uses real names here.” I was already three drinks in and one bad decision deep when she asked if I “partied.” I…