Alexis Fawx’s gallery

Whole city is out there chasing shows and paying triple for rides home — I'm on my couch with wine and nothing but this shirt, which stopped being buttoned about a glass ago. Tell me you wouldn't rather be here.

Making my own drink because nobody in this city pours like I do. You want to argue about that?

Last order shipped, books closed, everyone sent home — and now the office is mine. Being the boss means I answer to nobody, and right now that's exactly how I want it. You think you could handle me when I'm in charge?

Roaster's been running hot all afternoon and everything I was wearing is on the floor over by the burlap sacks. Perks of owning the place — nobody tells me to get dressed. You want a private tour?

Heat advisory before the sun's even up and I still put in my miles — peeled off everything soaked the second I hit the seat. Tell me you'd keep up.

Just got home from the Strip and the dress didn't even make it past the balcony door. Vegas looks better when you're not wearing anything, and I've got the whole skyline agreeing with me. You want the view from up here or the view of me?

Every show on the Strip starts in an hour and I haven't put a single thing on yet. Some nights the best decision is staying exactly like this. Tell me you wouldn't do the same.

Getting ready for tonight and I haven't even picked an outfit yet — some of us don't need one to start trouble. You want to help me choose?

Three stadium shows tonight and the Strip's already vibrating — meanwhile I'm in my roasting space with nothing but an apron and a very strong opinion about which beans deserve to exist. You want to know what gets me up before the sun?

Whole city is lit up below me and I can't be bothered to put a single thing on. Someone down there is having the best night of their life and they don't even know what they're missing up here.