18 March 2008

One Line, Two Lines, Three Lines, Four Lines.

I will never forget it.
Someone was at the door.
It must be DJ I thought. I sprinted towards it.

I answered it in my underwear. No shirt. Just standing there in my jocks.
I had spent the last three hours on the bed, staring at CNN.
I was in shock. I was cold.
The air con in the hotel was on high. DJ liked it that way. Cold blooded creature that he is.
I was covered in goose bumps. My tears would not stop. I was dying inside.
I had just been through the worst four hours of my life.
I thought it was DJ on the other side of the door.
He must have come to his senses I though.
I just wanted to pain to go away.

But it was not DJ. It was the scariest bunch of police I had ever seen. Some under covers. A Sargeant was there.
I was scared to death. They sealed my hotel door and took me away. Dragged me through the lobby. Past tourists and locals.
People were staring. I was crying. Screaming that DJ stole my money.
I could see Celine and Jackie sitting there trying to avoid eye contact with me. They were looking away at DJ. Poor DJ.
Fucking crook.

After our argument earlier that afternoon, I knew in my heart our relationship was over.
I just could not cope with the lies anymore. I knew there were no bank accounts.
I knew my money was gone. I could see it in his eye's. I felt it. I smelt the deception everywhere.
I really was scared to death.

I had flashes of my mum nagging me to be careful.
'Do you really know him son' she would say to me.
'Trust me mum' I would reply. Trust me.

Cocaine was not a part of my life. I knew DJ was hooked on it though after a while.
He was just not normal. Not consistant. Erratic. And now his behaviour was about to ruin my life.

I saw him so many times. High as a kite. He though I didn't know.
Celine too. All of them. They would go to the toilet and snort their drugs.
I was not so dumb.
They just could not function without drugs.

Celine could not function without cocaine when I was with her. She still can't.
I know she bought drugs this past weekend because i know where she buys her cocaine from.
I know more then Celine and DJ think.

I have been recieving e mails from 'other' members of the GG.
People promising me that they have nothing to do with DJ anymore.
They are afraid of being on this blog.
I don't blame them.

DJ and Celine keep this drug dealer in business.
People want me to post his name. I know who he is.
He lives and works at Embassy.
He is the biggest drug dealer in Manila.
He sells to Imelda's grand son.

I would hear them planning and organising for hours.
They had to have cocaine in order to go out. But first they had to organize the pesos.
They always made people pay for the lines they snorted.
They are so cheap with the drugs. They have no money.
Marcel got so tired of paying for Celines drugs.
He begged her to go to re hab.
But she would only go with DJ.
And he will NEVER go to re hab.
Can't afford it.

They won't take Celine in re hab until she gets her eating disorder under control.
Marcel tried to admit her to re hab last December.

Once, at an arts awards show, Celine was asked to hand out a prize.
But she arrived smashed.
Slurring her words.
Marcel was so embarrassed for her. We all were.
She could hardly walk to the podium.
When she got there, she mumbles some words.
FORGOT THE WINNERS NAME and basically made a complete fool of herself. Almost fell over in front of everyone.
I was so ashamed for her.
But none of her friends said anything to her. No one cared that she was completley fucked off her mind.
Everyone sits by and watches Celine and DJ and the rest consume so much drugs, they have lost touch with the real world.
No one really cares about them.
And why shoud they.

That night, they were all around Celine.
Like flies on shit.
Buzz buzz.

Marcel was there. Jackie and the whole gang.
Ana A. looked hot in her dress. Not bad for a lesbian.
Wendy looked bloated. She always does I reckon.
DJ was coked off his face. He always is. I lost count how many times they all went to the bathroom.
We were eating at DJ's Tita's new restaurant.
I wonder how she would feel if she knew DJ and his gang bring their drugs and snort them in her restaurant.

DJ was swanning around all night like a prince telling everyone he was the evenings host.
No you were not you loser. You are dilusional like Celine and Chut and Tina Tinio and everyone else who was there that night.
Just drugged out uglies.

Smashed on Veuve and cocaine.

The hilarious thing is the bathroom door at Chut's condo kept closing and locking, leaving the cocaine on the other side. The revellers were going crazy.
Because someone kept sneaking lines and forgetting to leave to door open.
They had to call a lock smith THREE times to get access to the cocaine.
It was CRAZY.
Another world away from reality.
So much money.
So many drugs.

I think Celine and DJ bought nine baggies of coke that night.
And they finished them all. I fell asleep.
Its all so fucking boring.

Tina was there with her ex boyfriend. Snorting her face off.
This girl has a hoover nose.
And Tim. Tim was smashed.
Snorted for hours.

Tim asked me for sex that night. I almost died.
He begged me at the evevator to suck him off.
He did not care that I had a boyfriend.
he just wanted head.
He told me he wanted a white guy.
Tim you are hideous.
And your cock is tiny. Teeny Weenie Tim. TWT.

Anyway's, back to the story.

But the real nightmare was just abut to start for me at the hotel room door.
Standing there in my underwear. The darkness begins.

DJ and I got into a terrible fight in our hotel room earlier in the day.
We struggled we ended up on the floor.
Screaming at me. Like a mad man.
I saw us laying on the floor.
I was in shock.

He would not get up. He liked it down there. On the four. On all fours.
He loves playing the victim.
When he is actually the one who started the entire physical aspect of our fight.

After the fight, he tricked me. We had sex. But he got everything in the end. He convinced me to go to the gym for a work out after we finished in bed.
I did.
After I left, he ran away.
He took everything.
My phone, my money, my plane ticket, my ipod. Everything.

I called Celine. I rang Jackie. I called others. Hysterical. Hurt. And deeply afraid.
No one helped me. No one cared about Brian.

Why did you hurt me so much DJ?
How could you plan such a devious act against the man who gave you EVERYTHING you wanted?
How many personalities do you have?

The police dragged me away to the Makati station.
DJ told them I assaulted him
DJ would not even look at me.
He would not look up.
This is your payback for that night DJ.
Enjoy it. Because it will never end for you.
Until you pay me back.

Remember DJ, when you had the police check my room?
For what? You already stole everything you filthy little thief.
I though you planted drugs.
You idiot. You should have put some coke in my bag. That would have fucked me up.
But your too cheap to waste a line on anything else apart for your piggy like nostrils.

How did it feel DJ, when you saw my face? The fear in my eye's?
You bastard DJ.
I was crying. I was begging. Screaming. Ripped to shreads inside. Desperate and alone.
But you have no feelings. No soul. No texture or depth. No heart strings.
You let them take me away.
You are evil.

I gave you everything you wanted.
Never denied you.
Your cashed up foot soldier.
Thats what I was.

You told them I beat you up. That is a lie.
Thats all you have DJ. Is this lie that you continue to perpetuate.
Telling people YOU were abused.
That I abused YOU.
Fuck off DJ.
And anyone else who believes for one second that I abused the talented Mr. Montano

Now, I really wish I had though.
I would do anything to smack your pudgy round little pumpkin head.

You spent that entire night trying to have me deported.
You must have been really beat up eh DJ?
You seemed perfectly fine to me you little fraud.
Spent the rest of the night lying to your friends Celine, Jackie and Marcel. Lying to everyone in your life.

Not to mention the phone calls you made to Boracay trying to destroy my life there for me.
I will never forgive your friends for the destruction that I had to clean up.

You seemed fine when you were inhaling your Macdonalds that night Montano. Laughing on the phone.
Playing the victim role.
Where did I injure you DJ?
You told people I punched you.
You made it all up.

You liar. Fucking liar. I have NEVER hit another human being you tragic little bullshitter.
You should have kept my original reservation at the Peninsula. The rooms are bigger. You would not have fallen over.
But you cancelled that reservation didn't you DJ. Because you owed them so much money and used my GOOD name there to book your room. You ruined my reputation at the Peninsula because I would NOT pay your 300,000 peso bill.

You changed the reservation. You didn't tell me. Did you impersonate me DJ.
We know you have before.
Your a crazy little bastard DJ.
Your 'other' boyfriend wanted me out.
Your Singaporian boyfriend.

And you did not want it to happen at the hotel that gives you all the freebies. The Peninsula.

I LOVED that hotel.
Big money for me to stay there. But its worth it. They were VERY good to me.
I stayed at the Peninsula with my mum in January.
I was determined to leave that hotel on the best terms.
Mummy loved it there because she had seen the tank go through the front on Television in Australia. We just stood there and stared and imagined all the commotion. The drama.
She thought it was neat to be there.
So did I.
I love the Peninsulas. Friendliest staff ever.
If you can only afford a couplw of nights in a hotel. Stay there.


The Peninsula should be ashamed to house you in their hotel.

Does the hotel know what you guys do there?

Having drugs sessions in your 'free' rooms.

Your little sex orgies DJ?
I know all about your prostitute parties.

At the Peninsula.

Drugs and sex in their rooms.

Drug dealers delivering to the hotel room door.

You need to be busted one day with your cocaine.

I spent so many hours with the police that night.
My Australian Embassy became involved. My lawyers were called.
My heart was on the floor.

Of course I was never charged. They refused to be used by DJ.
The police knew I was telling the truth. I had no reason to lie.
I was only ever questioned.
NEVER arrested. Never charged.
You failed DJ.

DJ eventually fled from the station.
The police wanted to question him over the theft from my hotel.
I demamded they check his car.
That is the last time I ever saw DJ.
He was fleeing.
Fleeing from the truth.
Fleeing from the pain.
Fleeing from his distruction.

Now look what this had started DJ.

You can't run from me now.
I told you the night you had me questioned, that you would never get away with your devious plan.

I was right.
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