Across you, sitting on the quaint cabanas by the pool, a group is horsing around – a lot of pushing, a lot of shoving, way too much inebriated laughter.
You’re in a club, it’s three in the morning, and you know you shouldn’t be people watching, but you can’t help it. Bodies move across the dance floor, silhouettes back-dropped against flashing lights – everything about it is pretty, too pretty to look away.
This is Palace Pool Club. You have officially arrived.