Chapter 21: It's Not As Fun the Second Day

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Kat's POV
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The first thing I woke up to in the morning was a pounding in my head. It was like my heart had been relocated to my temple and that was where my pulse was now coming from.

I was naked, but I couldn't remember why. Well, I had an idea of why, but I didn't remember it at all. Shawn was beside me, still dead to the world.

I rolled over with a groan, hoping my head would stop hurting. It didn't. The only thing that made any difference was that my stomach was now also rolling. Fantastic.

Light poured in from the hallway as Paul let himself in. I shielded my eyes as I scrambled to pull the covers up to my neck.

"What the hell?" I asked groggily.

I was too loud; Shawn stirred beside me.

"I have your room key. I had to drag you both home last night," he said, shutting the door.

"And you're here now because...?" I wouldn't normally be so blunt, but my body was killing me and I was horribly confused.

"It's past noon. I figured I'd come wake you up. So get up, we have places to be."

I gave him a look. "I can't."

He looked confused for a moment, before taking in the scene and realizing that I was not dressed. "Oh. Right."

I sighed as I tried to wake Shawn. Shoving him wasn't working. So I hit him in the face with my pillow.

That got him moving. He was mad, but he was awake. His head must have been splitting like mine was, from the way he was wincing.

"You two did this to yourselves," Paul told us, like a scolding parent. He was really just pointing out the obvious.

Shawn managed to have his pants nearby, slipping them on before leaving the bed. He pulled one of his sweatshirts from his suitcase and threw it at me, saying nothing. I couldn't really expect better of him at the moment.

I put on the shirt, which covered all it needed to, and stood shakingly. I stretched, yawning. I didn't care how late Paul said it was; I was still dead tired.

"Y'know, I don't remember ordering a wake-up call," I told him.

He chuckled. "Too bad," he answered, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. Apparently he wasn't going anywhere. Paul took care of us, at least.

I suddenly felt my stomach flip; I had to rush to the bathroom to avoid vomiting all over myself.

The boys were concerned, of course, but I tried to assure them I was fine, once I was done. "I'm just hungover. I had way too much to drink. I'll be fine."

Shawn downed a couple of painkillers, not even trying to hide it anymore.

He offered some to me. I knew I shouldn't, but I was aching. I took a couple. The prescribed amount.

I showered first. Shawn offered/joked to join me, but I told him I needed to clear my head. I dried myself off and stepped into some nice warm clothes, instantly feeling better. It was just a pair of jeans and another of Shawn's shirts, but it felt heavenly.

I had been avoiding facing my reflection, but I figured I might as well assess the damage.

The bags under my eyes were huge, but that wasn't the part of me that was black and blue that worried me. Oh, no, that was the huge bruise on my neck that was 100% visible.

"Do you see this?" I demanded, storming out of the bathroom.

"It's a hickey," Shawn answered, in a tone that screamed, "What more do you want from me?"

"It's totally noticeable."

Paul tried to help me out and calm me down. "No, it's not that bad."

"Really?"

He grimaced. "Okay, I lied."

I threw up my hands in frustration. I could not go on TV like that. I could not go out in public like that.

Shawn took my hands and settled them back down. "It's a hickey, Kat. Get used to it. Have you seen what you did to my back?" He turned around to show me the mess of scratches I'd apparently left. Dammit. "It's okay. I promise."

"Maybe for you. Everyone is going to know as soon as they see me," I argued. I was embarassed. What would Dad say?

"Would that be such a bad thing, Kat? Dear God, we wouldn't want anyone to actually know you're my girl," he exclaimed bitterly. The sarcasm was tinged with hurt.

"Shawn, I didn't mean--"

"Okay, okay. I think you've both had enough talking until at least lunch," Paul cut in, trying his best to steer us away from conflict.

Without another word, Shawn grabbed his clothes and shut himself in the bathroom.

I sighed, sitting down next to Paul. "This is my fault."

"Kat, you know how he gets in the morning."

"He doesn't get that bad," I muttered. Shawn might be grumpy in the morning, but that was more than grumpy.

"He'll be fine." But even Paul didn't sound so sure.

When Shawn came back from the bathroom, he pretty much ignored me. I felt so bad for upsetting him, but he wouldn't let me make it better.

I decided if we couldn't remember what we did, we might as well ask Paul. He started in on the worst of it.

"You were dancing on top of a table, with multiple people throwing money at you. I didn't pick it up, but whether or not you stashed some in your pockets, I have no clue--"

I gasped. "Oh my god, I didn't."

Paul shook his head. "Not you." He pointed at Shawn. "Him. You were one of the ones throwing cash at him. That was about when I decided we should leave."

"Thank you," I breathed, giggling.

"What you guys did once we got back... that I can't tell you. But I can assume, taking a look at both of you," he continued.

Obviously. We'd gotten back and slept together, that was all there was to it. One glance around could tell you that.  Oh God, I hoped it was protected.

"So I know I've learned a thing or two," I told them. "Drinking isn't as fun the second day."

Shawn laughed. "It's easier when you're still drinking."

The thought alone made my stomach turn again. I groaned, letting my head slam back onto the bed.

The guys just laughed again. Paul the most, because he didn't have to deal with the hangovers like we were.

I learned something else, too: even at the lowest points, I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

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-A/N-
As of right now, as I finish writing this, it is Friday, October 20th. I have written this two days before it needs published. Ha! I knew I could do it on time eventually! I hope you enjoyed.💕

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