Alexi's apartment is huge. Walking in the door, ushered by four big burly men I know from the club and all in complete silence. I don't even take the time to acknowledge them individually or even look up past black heavy coats and wide chests to recognise each one. Just a group of intimidating security in matching outfits and earpieces who escorted me from car door to apartment door.
I have no words anyway. Dishevelled, filthy and broken inside as I'm led into a massive open plan penthouse apartment that I would never think of putting Alexi in. A building in Upper Manhattan's most luxurious area.
It's warmer and homelier than the décor of the club, with slight ties to his bolthole in the styling. Huge soft corner couches, side tables and furniture for lounging and laying cups by your sid
