If you haven’t read Part 1 on how I ended up living in a Villa with a bunch of boys, here’s an update. Day and I find we are a room down and I’m expected to share with my very new BF.
I’m watching the couples on Love Island finding themselves suddenly thrust into relationships, sometimes unexpectedly and I can completely relate. So this is what its really like; once you finally get over the speed and shock of the process there’s an undeniable excitement. Luckily for me I’d known CBF (current boyfriend) for a good few years. He had been one of my best friends. So living with him should have been easy right…..?
Firstly, I hadn’t anticipated the bloody magnitude of grooming involved when living 24/7 with a guy you don’t really know in that way. FFS; I had to shave my legs reputedly or live in fear that CBF was going to think he’d moved in with a strip of sandpaper.
Secondly, my shoes no longer had their own space, neither did my dresses and more to point nor did I. Do you have any idea how suffocating it is to suddenly find you have less personal space than a Southwestern train in rush hour?
Thirdly, now I had to share a bed. Not just when it was fun, when I wanted to, or when I was horny. But EVERY single bloody night. And let me tell you it get’s hot in Majorca. And not always in the good way. You sweat, they sweat, the fucking Gecco that repeatedly crept into my sodding room and tried to eat me, sweat. I shouldn’t have been surprised but my mum was right “Boys Smell”. I’m fairly certain I did too at some points when the alcohol and nicotine oozed out of my pours.
Then there was the issues of paper thin walls. Luckily on the first night it was just me, CBS and Smiler so I managed to salvage a tiny bit of dignity. It wasn’t until Carnage arrived on day 2, with his constant stream of women that I realised how dam loud shagging is in a house with no carpet or curtains. You simply don’t appreciate things like the sound proofing of material, until you’re living in a Spanish house designed for a painfully hot climate.
Finally I can 100% promise you those poor girls in the Villa are crippling up in agony attempting not to fart. Eventually you relax into a relationship and the odd uncontrollable escapage of gas is accepted. But those first few week/months, when you’re desperately trying to cling on to the illusion of sexy Adonis, its excruciating.
But me a CBF slipped in to a routine, did our best with the situation, laughed off what we could and attempted to keep orgasm volumes to a minimal.
So anyway Day 2 and Carnage eventually arrives after missing his fight the previous day. Carnage is short, cheeky and funny AF. I swear he could laugh the pants off a 7ft model. I’m fairly convinced picking up women was his Super Power as I lost track of the number of ladies that did the walk of shame from his room in the early hours of the afternoon.
The instant I met Carnage I knew we were going to get on. He was trouble and I don’t need much convincing to be naughty at the best of times. So he became my partner in crime. If we were on shift together there was a high possibility that I wasn’t getting home before the sun came up, with probably no memory of how we even got there in the first place.
At one point we developed a game called ‘Shots O’clock’. It involved whoever was on shift taking in in turns to make a shot on the hour and no matter what was put in front of you had to drink it. There was no backing out, this game was law. Looking back I’m surprised I even have a liver anymore.
The bar where we worked was part of a larger yacht company, our job as professional cocktail bartender was to bring something new to the marina and raise the profile of the drinking venue. This wasn’t taking very kindly by the day time staff. We were on higher wages, had been shipped in and were living in an all-expenses paid Villa. I’m not surprised they were pissed off to be honest. We were allowed to drink on shift and eat what we liked from the kitchen, as long as we fulfilled our roles as perfect host to upmarket tourists and the occasional celebrities. But sadly in the early days there was a divide between the AM and PM staff.
One more boy moved in, I don’t remember his name as he didn’t stay long. Villa life was too much for him. Or maybe it was Carnage’s howling banshee’s. I often wonder what went on in his bedroom as seriously I’ve never heard women make noises like that to this day. Maybe they just didn’t appreciate the echo of hardwood beds on tiled floor and tracing paper bloody walls.
I empathise complete with those couples hiding under their duvet attempting to share a romantic moment; Praying that a few layers of bed linen is enough to disguise any actual carnal interaction. FYI… Bed sheets disguise absolutely nothing.
One month later and Smilers girlfriend turns up. She a stunning leggy blond and utterly adorable. Finally, I had another girl in the house. Don’t get me wrong, there was something very special about being the only one with my boys. But for the love of god I needed some back up. I’d started to leave the toilet seat up myself as being grossly outnumbered I stood no chance of winning that argument. Smiler and Blondy were a stunning couple, both visually and in person. I was grateful on so many occasions for his cool demure and words of wisdom.
We were lucky to have him as our leader, he kept the peace, kept Carnage under control and kept me and CBF from murdering each other. He was also meticulously tidy. And in a house full of crazy bartenders you needed a Daddy like that to keep you all out of trouble.
And that’s how our happy little life continued for the first few months. Me and CBF in one room, Smiler and Blondie in another, Carnages and random holiday totty and a spare room that frequently changed hands. Not sure if the room was cursed or we were just more than the average person could handle, however no one lasted long in there.
But things were about to get tricky. One day I’m on shift making drinks and smoozing the punters. It was bloody busy and I was hungover as hell. I finish serving my current customer, turn to the next and freeze…. Standing at the bar watching my every move was my Mediterranean ex. Now I probably need to explain that whilst I broke his hart we were still good friends and I simply can’t help but bloody love this guy. To add an extra dynamic to the situations he was also very close to CBF. I couldn’t help but leap over the bar and into his arms. Cuddles, smiles and undeniable chemistry in full view of everyone. Looking back maybe not my best move but I was in total shock.
And then I notice the eyes from the redhead at his side. Face full of false grin and sceptical expression. Next thing I know he’s pulling her over for an introduction. We shake hands and hug it out and that’s when he said “C, meet my fiancée Red”.
Don’t think I did a great job of designing my emotions in that moment. I felt completely and utterly sick!
Part 3, find out what it’s really like to have your ‘head turned’ while living with the ex. And you you want to catch up with Part 1 here’s the link https://bsingleinstyle.wordpress.com/2019/07/22/i-used-to-live-on-love-island-part-1-the-coupling/