Miss Singapore and Henry from FHM

Later that night…

Undaunted by my misadventure, I decided to get out there and get myself some action. I was walking past Marina Square with the intent of just chilling in some bar when I heard some really good music coming from an open field.

Now now, I can just feel the great bunny vibe that this is gonna be good, I walked up to the bus and found out from this cute Aussie lad that it was actually the Heineken Area: 320 Break Away concert. And oh, listen to this, there were some foreign acts in town that were playing.

This is getting darn good, I thought. Time to get that buzz on I so needed! In my new blistering shoe, I strutted over to the ticketing counter. I was whipping out my Gucci wallet when a hand came from behind and pushed my hand down. Bewildered, I turned and lo and behold, who should I see in his party garb than my former date from hell. You guessed right, Mr. Tan also wanted some action. Darnest darn!

Gred and Wanye from 141 Worldwide

Well, he offered to pay for my ticket. Okay, I shall be thankful for that. We went to get some beer and that was when I made my big escape. Escape I did all right, for I soon found myself in the middle of this bunch of Britons. Not only were they as cute as Jamie Oliver (my favourite chef in the world!), they were all buying me Heinekens by the gallons.

Okay, maybe not by the gallons, but what the heck, being intoxicated in the company of dudes with that to-die-for British accent is just too good to be true. I was on cloud nine! Pardon the cliched expression but I was kinda floating, I gotta admit.

Soon, the air around me was so thickened by the testosterone, that I was having a nagging headache. I broke away from the attention and went to wash up at one of the disgusting portable toilets. Puking didn’t make me feel any better. I got out of the toilet and nearly tripped. Before I knew it, I was in the arms of a certain Robin. He had caught me just in time.

I still maintain it was the shoes I tell you. Those damn shoes. Anyway Robin was actually one of the artistes playing at the concert. My jaws nearly dropped when he introduced me to his brother, Simon.

Faze Action

Both DJs hail from London and they called themselves Faze Action. Oooo, I like. Talk to me now boys! Not only were they the cutest brothers I’ve ever laid eyes on, they had the sexiest British accent that seriously turned me on. My long bunny ears lapped up their every note.

This night was getting hot. I slowly leaned toward them feigning grogginess and just as I was lying on Simon’s lap, who should turn up but that dreaded Mr. ‘Everywhere’ Tan! I stared at him with disbelief as he dragged me away and apologised to the brothers for having to put up with my ‘nonsense’.

I was fuming by the time he dragged me to his car. Who does he think I was? His kept woman? Oh please, all he did was just to buy me some crap shoes and humiliate me! I slapped him and stomped off back to the concert. I went to sit on the grass, helpless and irritated that my special moment with the brothers had been ruined by that incompetent jerk. What a ‘fantastic’ night it had been. I stood up, wanting to leave when some guy who introduced himself as a writer from FHM asked if I could join him for a drink or two.

Oh well, more free drinks? Well, I couldn’t say no, could I? Kevin was his name and he kept complimenting me on my eyes and even said I was hot enough to be on the cover of the magazine. Whoa, slow down boy, sure I can take flattery, but this is kind of too much ain’t it? I smiled modestly and took another sip of my hundredth and one cup of Heineken. Just then, the lights went off. Mr. Photographer took this opportunity to get a feel of my assets. What the! Fed up, I got up, threw my cheap heels at him and strode off.

Thank god a cab showed up within a minute. This bunny went home barefooted and swore never to date a Tan again.

– Photos by Jeffree Benet

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