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I'm sleepless on a Parisian rooftop.

German accent, intellectual talk, sounds Freudian: masturbation, underwear, fucking, drinks, girls.

American trying to speak French, trying to buy his image through his words.

Lebanese friend; I'm saying sorry for being distant, Lebanese girl, name and face in common, makes me ill at ease.

"It's okay, I just go with the flow, you know me, I don't complicate things"

But going back will be hard.

German girl, "If a Turkish guy from a football team hit on you, you'd be like yeah..."

"Shikidim, shikidim"

"He's gay, like openly"

"No, he's married"

Oh my, I hear my Mexican friend downstairs and people singing to Cindy Lauper.

I should go downstairs, flash my underwear to below the ladder...

Mexican guy arrives.

"Awesomness arrived!"

How do these parties work?

I have to go, don't want to be married to my phone.

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