Narcissist Magazine

Simon Says

DISCO EXCORCISM AT SIMON SAYS

A close-up of a person in a nightclub wearing a sheer, black outfit and striking a confident pose. The background reveals a dimly lit party atmosphere with other attendees visible.

It was an October Hollywood night in the unhinged year of 2025 — sirens in the distance, chaos on every timeline, illusions cracking open under the Age of Aquarius. But none of that mattered. Not tonight.

Tonight, Narcissist needed to dance through the doom.

I threw on my avant-garde vamp armor, noir and confrontational, and strutted through Hollywood like a villain headed to trial.

Destination: Simon Says — buried inside Spotlight on Selma ave and Cahuenga, that cursed intersection where sinners, starlets, and narcissists collide on purpose.

Standing at the door like a nightclub messiah was Andrés Rigal — a man dressed like the Cardinal of Chaos, in full red monochrome suit, Panama hat, square sunglasses, and a grin that looked illegal in several states. He kissed the air, nodded once, and basically said without speaking:

“Welcome to the simulation glitch, darling.”

A colorful, furry jacket with neon hues and dramatic fringe is worn by a person with their back to the camera, who is holding a drink. The background features a bar scene with individuals in stylish attire.

THE DIVE INTO DIONYSUS

Inside was red light and delirium. A room full of disco cowboys, latex angels, influencer devils, IT girls, alien creatures that don’t technically exist until after midnight. Everyone glistening. Everyone unhinged. Everyone there for salvation via bassline.

I went straight to the dance floor — no hesitation — and that’s when I saw him:

A six-foot-something man in a vintage ’80s wedding dress, full tulle explosion, bouquet in hand. He looked like Cyndi Lauper married Satan in a Reno chapel at 3AM.

We made eye contact. That was enough.
We danced.

No names. No questions. Just collision.

A vibrant nightclub scene featuring a tall individual in a wedding dress, surrounded by an eclectic crowd. The text overlay reads, '6'5" RUNAWAY BRIDE DECLARED SPIRITUAL LEADER OF THE NIGHT!'

A lively nightclub scene with people dancing, featuring a woman in a sparkling top and a man playfully interacting with her.

A performer dressed as a green demon with spiky hair and glowing gloves poses with a person in a stylish outfit, both holding drinks at a nightclub. The caption reads 'GREEN DEMON DECLARED BEST-DRESSED UNDEAD OF THE NIGHT.'

A person with curly hair and glasses poses in a crowded nightclub, wearing a denim outfit. The background features blurred figures, enhancing the vibrant club atmosphere.

A man wearing a black crop top with the word 'FAKE' in rhinestones and a decorated cowboy hat raises his arm in a dramatic pose, surrounded by a lively crowd in a nightclub setting.

Two performers sit on a green couch in a nightclub, one with vibrant orange hair in a leopard-print outfit and the other with curly red hair in a sparkling dress, both showcasing bold styles and dramatic poses.

THE SMOKE VENT ALTAR

There’s a slit in the ceiling — a half-open rooftop gap where you can chain-smoke indoors like it’s Paris in the 20s. Everyone crowded beneath it, eyes rolled back, exhaling like baptized demons.

Simon Says zines — shot by Mark Hunter (The Cobrasnake) — were scattered on tables like religious pamphlets. People flipped through them like tarot cards.

A close-up image of a person holding a magazine titled 'SIMON SAYS,' featuring a woman on the cover. The text includes 'SEQUINS, SMOKE, AND SALVATION' in bold green letters, with the subtitle 'What I witnessed inside the House of Simon Says.' The person's arm, adorned with tattoos, is partially visible, indicating a stylish outfit.

A person with stylish hair and bold accessories, wearing sunglasses and a blue shirt, holds a card that says 'NARCISSIST' while sticking out their tongue, with text overlay stating 'PUNK'S NOT DEAD' and 'NARCISSIST IS ALIVE'.

MUSIC LIKE A WEAPON

The booth was on fire — Daisy O’Dell and Sean Patrick spinning like they were trying to resurrect Studio 54 through brute force. No desert rave required. The portal had opened on Selma ave.Drag queens on platforms. Girls in outfits that were technically there. A man in angel wings arguing with girl demon about astrology. Beautiful chaos.

A DJ performs in a crowded nightclub, with attendees dancing and enjoying the music.

A lively nightclub scene featuring a performer in a silver sparkling outfit and star-themed headpiece dancing energetically, while another dressed in red poses nearby. An audience of clubgoers enjoys the show in the background.

A young woman in a yellow lingerie outfit poses confidently in a lively nightclub, surrounded by people. Text overlay reads, 'FULL LINGERIE — SECURITY LETS HER CUT THE LINE OUT OF RESPECT!'

A person in a sparkling black dress stands in a nightclub, striking a dramatic pose with their back turned to the camera. The dress features various designs, including skulls and bold text. The background shows a lively crowd engaged in the nightlife.

Two individuals in tank tops pose in a nightclub, accompanied by another person with a red face. The scene captures an unusual friendship amidst a lively atmosphere.

Two young people pose playfully at a nightclub, with one sticking out their tongue and the other smiling widely. The background features dim lighting and decorative elements typical of a vibrant party atmosphere.

A person wearing a colorful, fluffy fur coat poses for the camera, holding a lollipop. They have a playful expression and dark hair, accessorized with a necklace. Background features a lively nightlife setting.

A group of four people posing in a nightclub, three women in stylish outfits with vibrant hair colors and makeup, and a man behind them smiling. Neon text overlays the image, mentioning 'zero mean girls' and an investigation by city officials.

A group of people socializing at a lively event, with one individual wearing a cowboy hat and sunglasses, smoking a cigarette, and others showing eclectic styles and facial paint.

A performer in a nightclub wearing a black hat and gloves stands with their back to the camera, showcasing a dramatic pose. The crowd in the foreground engages with the performance, with individuals dressed in various stylish outfits.

THE HOLLYWOOD BATHROOM CHURCH

Somewhere between delirium and dehydration I met a very tipsy, dangerously attractive Italian man who slurred, “I love America. I love LA. Venice Beach — it’s the best!” (Something I haven’t heard this year at all.)

Two drinks in and giggling, I shot back, “You know what? Hell yeah!”

We ended up in line for the girls’ bathroom. I pointed him toward the smaller stall like it was a diplomatic decision and took the bigger one for myself — priorities.

While I was peeing, two drag queens were screaming about wigs like it was a federal investigation. I nearly died laughing.

A person in a leopard print coat poses dramatically in a nightclub setting, with colorful lighting and decorative elements in the background. The subject has a confident expression, showcasing a dramatic look amidst the vibrant atmosphere.

A drag astrologer in a glamorous costume featuring silver gloves and a star-adorned headdress poses dramatically, reading futures at a nightclub.

A performer with curly red hair dances on stage at a nightclub, wearing a silver outfit with rhinestones, while a crowd enjoys the music in the background. The scene is illuminated by dramatic lighting and a disco ball above.

THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO SIMON

There are only three rules at Simon Says:

Simon says no more clean-girl era.
Simon says dress like you might be arrested.
Simon says if the music hits — you dance or die.

And everyone listened.

Because this wasn’t just a club — Andrés, Daisy, Patrick, and Mark have built something far more intriguing.
They’ve engineered a ritual, disguised as nightlife.
A fashion exorcism, scored in BPM.
A holy meltdown under red light and cigarette smoke.

What they’re doing here is not normal. It’s resurrection of Hollywood!

And when SIMON SAYS dance — you fucking dance.