Taylor and I step into the club and descend the stairs. The stench of smoke fills the air and I'm reminded of Taylor's stint as a smoker during our teenage years. The orange interior is dimmed through the hazy atmosphere but I can faintly, through the masses of heads, see that there's an exit onto the beach. I briefly check out the Greek men and many tourists before me. They're not too bad if you ask me.

"Gia! I'll go get us some drinks," Taylor yells at me, raising his voice above the house music that is seeping in through the air. I nod and turn towards marc and Helen (his Greek girlfriend who, since we've come to Greece from Italy, has usurped us as tour guides).

"Lets go find a sofa," I yell at them. We move through the crowd and as we head towards the veranda it becomes sparser. We find a free (orange, yes orange) sofa. Marc and Helen sit close together and I swear that his had is sliding up her thigh. I think legislation should be passed that siblings shouldn't make out in front of one another. I twist away so I don't have to witness this horrifying attempt at foreplay. In the middle of a club! Pah, what's happened to our ethics? I'm so sad. I'm sitting in a club in Santorini and I'm thinking about ethics. I clandestinely check out everyone around me. Random girls clad in body hugging, cleavage showing, thigh revealing things that I personally don't classify as clothing. More random guys dressed in wife-beaters; I've never understood the concept of the wife-beater. They're just ugly and I've told Taylor as much.

My eye slowly passes over a certain someone dressed in a crisp white shirt and natural colour chinos. He is sitting in almost regally and has short brown hair. Could deal. Suddenly he catches my gaze and I realise that all this time he has been watching me check him out. I'm mortified. He has the most amazing hazel eyes but this thought is quickly pushed aside and embarrassment at being caught checking him out takes over. I look away speedily. Then, because I can't help myself I glance back at him and avert my eyes again. He was grinning, almost laughing at me - not meanly though. And what a grin. I'm so embarrassed. I turn back towards Marc and Helen.

I feel so out of place. Marc and Helen have their thing going on and Taylor's getting the drinks and I'm left sitting here in an overwhelming adult playground (that sounds like I'm in a strip club). I sneak a peek at hot hazel boy. He's disappeared. I feel a tap on my shoulder,

"Do you mind if I sit here?"

"No," My voice cracks. It's hot hazel boy.

"Thanks," he replies, giving me a knowing grin. I shoot him a small, constrained (and embarrassed) smile back and turn back around.

Gia you idiot! Here I am commenting on how I have no one to talk to and a perfect opportunity arises and I still say nothing. I am truly an idiot. I decide to get up and look for Taylor � it's been thirty minutes. I carefully remove myself from the couch, careful not to touch hot hazel boy in the process. I push through the crowd towards the bar. I'm becoming quite sick of crowds. This is our third port of call for the night � it's three in the morning and people are only just getting revved up. I crane my neck, desperately wanting to spot Taylor. The orange lights are starting to make my eyes sting.

I finally glimpse him leaning against the bar. I slide between the bodies on the dance floor. And stop in my tracks. I surmise that it's probably best not to interrupt him right now: A blonde girl with curly shoulder length hair is pressed up against him and is whispering something in his ear. He laughs and then slowly moves his gaze up to her eyes and then down to her mouth. He very deliberately takes his time inclining his head towards hers, for their lips to meet and as they do I can see his tongue snake into her mouth and his hand drift down her back to rest on her ass.

They break apart and he murmurs something into her ear and they turn to face the door. As Taylor is staring at the door his eye meets mine and he starts steering her (his hands on her hips) to m. As they pass me he pauses shortly and states,

"I probably won't come back to the hotel room tonight," gives me an expressionless look and continues to the door. As though he's too cool for school. Tears prickle on my eyeballs as a feeling suspiciously like jealousy seep through me. I start fighting my way through the masses, breathing as deeply as I can and being served lungfuls of smoke. I must have passive smoked at least to packets tonight.

Hot hazel boy here I come.

I move the small set of steps and find our sofa. There he is! And then my eyes move to the spirited auburn haired girl who is actively engaged in conversation with him. Body language: crossed legs towards each other. I feel so dejected. I want nothing more than to leave. I walk up, put on a smile and tell Marc and Helen I'm leaving and then turn around quickly so they don't see the tears which have quite abruptly started pouring down my face.

Gia: the idiot. Crying alone in a nightclub. Gia: the idiot.