FFM 14 - The Best-Ever Party Shoes

The most wonderful shoes in the world were in a used clothing store's window.  Jaime helplessly stared at these shoes.  They were amazing.  They looked like they were made of silk from the beard of God.  The more Jaime tried to define them, the more the shoes took on some new character that made definition impossible.  Color?  The color of heaven!  Decoration? Like sex in a ballgown!
She had to have them - they were even the right size.
The door was very slightly open - even so, Jaime had to use all of her strength to widen it enough for her to jam herself inside.
Inside the store, the air was musty and laden with grandma perfume.  There was no one behind the desk.  Jaime marched up to the window and saw there was a card leaning up against the back of the shoes.
Best-Ever Party Shoes. Price: 60 y
What the heck was "y"?  Bad handwriting, Jaime guessed.  She delicately picked up the wonderful shoes.  They felt like the best date ever.
No one at the desk.
Jaime left, barely squeezing out of the door.
A minute after Jaime had gone, the door slid closed and the shop disappeared.

Jaime was gussied up and ready for the party.
  "Whoa baby!  You're lookin' hot tonight!  Check out those shoes!"  Farzad whistled.
  "Hell yes I am!  Let's do this!" Jaime said.
They kissed passionately, holding hard against each other, before Jaime forced Farzad away, muttering, "Shit, my make-up."
  "Mmmyeah," Farzad said, licking the lipstick on his mouth.
Jaime snorted and shoved him.
  "C'mon, let's go."

The best party in the world was happening and it was all because of Jaime's shoes.  No one realized this, of course, but it was the best party in the world.
Everyone got high and kept going higher.  No one came down, no one got wasted, they were just as high as high could go.  The cops showed up and joined the party.  David Bowie showed up, followed immediately by Alice Cooper, who was then followed by every band and singer that ever truly rocked and rolled.  Bands reunited for this one party.  Old people were dancing with young people, everyone was singing their favorite song and it was everyone else's favorite song too.
Sixty years of fun was condensed into one night, and Jaime was queen of the night.
Then the night ended.
Jaime's shoes fell apart.  Everyone collapsed with wicked hangovers and dehydration.  The cops tried to crawl out of the wreckage, their dignity and uniforms shredded.  Talent agencies went mad trying to find their stars in the mass of passed-out bodies.
It was the best time Jaime ever had and ever would have, a party that would be remembered for decades. It was the last fun she had for the next 60 years.  
That was the price.