Nick Thomas is a 24 year old cellist who finally completed grad school and is ready to see the world. He gets an amazing gig offer that leads him to the dazzling city of Las Vegas. What is Nick to do when a drunken night leads him into the arms of...
"THAT'S RIGHT BRIDGETT JONES!!!! YOU TELL THAT BITCH WUZ UP" I yelled at the TV while that awesome scene where pregnant Bridgett Jones flips off the hipsters who overtook her work while the fuck you song plays in the background. This song was really hitting me on a personal level today. I love my friend but she totally bailed on me for dick. 'Maybe I should learn how to play the song and serenade her when she gets back'. I fist pumped and did a happy dance in my bed at the thought. I probably looked like a complete nut in my open black zip up hoody and deadpool ballerina pajama pants. I took this time to take a large swig from the bottle of Merlot effectively finishing it. It was not really registering that it was a 1.5 liter bottle that I solely emptied but I pouted and glared at the bottle none the less. I sat the bottle down and ran a hand through my messy blonde hair and adjusted my glasses.
As I attempted to stand up and grab my cello I stumbled and fell back on the bed grabbing the empty wine bottle. I giggled at my own stupidity and allowed my body to feel the lovely buzz from the wine. There was a loud thud followed by a sharp knock at the door. Before I could really register anything the door beeped and someone quickly entered and slammed it shut then locked it. I stood still while a million thoughts played in my head, the one I settled on had to be that the NSA heard my thoughts and were going to steal my idea to learn the 'Fuck You Song'. I took firmer grip on the bottle and carefully got out of bed. I slowly crept to the wall closest to the door and took a deep breath. The room was set up with a kitchenette next to the door, so one could not see the whole room upon entry. I leaned sideways and peeked around the wall. I was oddly calm given the situation, thank god for wine! I feel like a fricken ninja or something. The turtles would be proud.
A large figure was leaning against the door and breathing heavily. My vision was a little blurry so it was hard to see him clearly. I watched as he used a hand to brush his hair and a bit of sweat out of his face when it hit me. This is a gorgeous NSA man. The US has really stepped up their game, I'd tell this guy everything he wanted to know. He was quite tall with a broad, built frame with this hot disheveled look going on with his dark hair. He was wearing a white dress shirt that was wrinkled and unbuttoned at the top with ... wine stains on it? His hair was messy a dark brown that somehow didn't distract from his hot chiseled face. Did I mention this guy had a hot face because 'Oh my god' an angel must have sculpted his chin. I think I now have a chin fetish. Like I bet you could slice cheese with his angular face. Damn. That would have been great with the wine.
As I was eye humping this Adonis, drunk me decided to make a rather graceful appearance. And by graceful I mean falling sideways off the wall and flat on my face in his line of vision. The mans attention was definitely on me now. "Well it looks like I'm already FALL-ing for you" I said with a giggle trying to play it off by laying on the floor in that "paint me like one of your french girls" position. Before I could say more another sharp knock was heard at the door. The man quickly closed the distance between us and roughly covered my mouth with his large hand.He shifted slightly and a shiny glint caught my eye. It took me a second to process that he was holding a gun up to my head. 'Well this suddenly got a lot less fun'
