Confession #91837 – The Balcony I Swear Was Empty

We had a Strip-view balcony and two bad ideas: room service champagne and the belief that no one was really paying attention. It was late. The kind of late where the lights blur and the noise from the street turns into constant background static. We’d been out, we’d danced, we’d gambled, we’d said yes to every “one more drink?” offered. Back in the room, everything felt too quiet. One thing led to another on that balcony. It felt private enough.…