Things are not the same since we broke up last June
The only thing that I wanna hear is that you love me still
And you think you'll be coming home real soon - Donna Summer
Peaches Melba, reclines on the sofa as Donna Summer's voice blasts out of the speakers of her stereo. She peers down at her well manicured toes, jammed into her favorite pair of Joan Crawford come fuck me shoes. She's taken such good care of them all these years. You just can't buy shoes like this anymore, she thinks. She lights up another Galouises and begins bobbing her head to the beat.
Wednesday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights were spent at the MiraBall. Occasionally, Peaches took the stage as one of the 3 D's (Donna, Diana or Dionne), but it was her Cher that always brought down the house. Like an ex-high school football player reliving his glory days, she fantasizes about the wigs, the glamour and the adoration.
Cigarette smoke mixed with Tanqueray and Tonic permeated the club and from the moment she walked in she knew that this was her home.
"Mira, mira" - call the girls from the dance floor as couples grind, doing "the rock." Peaches runs to join them, rubbing her back up against Butchie as he hangs on to her hips. Crystal breaks open a popper and shoves it under her nose. That quick rush sets the tone for the night. FABULOUS.
