Getting picked up at the airport by your best friend and going home to share a bottle of wine. Then leaving the house to begin a night out at one-thirty in the morning, because that's when the party is really getting started. Going from bar to bar on Frenchmen, each band better than the last. Running into friends everywhere. Drinking, dancing, living, loving. Flirting. Feeling more alive than I could possibly feel anywhere else on the planet.
No city in the world can compare. Last night confirmed it. For better or for worse, there's just no fucking place like home...
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