Carnal Magnetism

Chapter Five

   The sound of the faucet dripping in the kitchen, like a harsh metallic clicking bouncing off the insides of her brain, was irritating Selene to the point of tears. She hadn’t even opened her eyes yet and she was already wishing the day would end. 

   She groaned and turned over in her bed,  only to fall off and land in the floor with a quaking ‘oomph' sound. 

   “What the actual heck?” she whispered, opening her eyes only to find a mangled mess of brown hair blocking her view.  Batting her face with her hands, she glared up noticing the couch beside her before the way too bright light forced her to squeeze them shut. 

   “Oh my freaking- what did I do last night?” Selene whined to herself,  wiping the involuntary tears from her face.  She tried her best to recall last night and failed miserably with a huff. 

   She turned her head to the right,  blocking the light from her eyes with her hand, opening her eyes as slowly as she could. 

   Nickie was fast asleep, curled up in a little ball on the floor with literally all of the blankets and pillows from Fancy’s room, earning her a futile glare. Louisa was most likely in her bedroom, that woman wouldn’t sleep on the floor if you paid her in her weights worth of ice cream.  Where as Nickie was notorious for being able to fall asleep anywhere, under any circumstance.

   Fancy felt the slow beating drum of a powerful headache start to build up momentum,  and pushed herself into a sitting position. 

   “I am so stupid,  did I drink myself dead last night?!” She groaned the entire minute it took her to stand up on her aching legs.  On autopilot she journeyed to the kitchen,  stepping in a squishy,  wet pile of something that makes her yelp and jump back. 

   Upon further, very hesitant examination,  it’s her clothes from last night laying haphazardly in the hallway in puddle form, soaking a mess into the carpet. 

   “Did I SWIM in an ocean of liquor last night,  Selene Mae Fogerty,  shame on yourself,” she scolded herself incredulously as she kicked them off to the side,  too groggy to deal with laundry now. 

   Fancy sauntered into the kitchen,  immediately starting a pot of coffee and downing some Advil, lost in her mind trying to grab onto the memories from last night.  They were stuck up there somewhere.

   What she can remember is work, the cab ride to the Greenhouse Club. Fairy light,  a darkly lit stage,  a black box. 

   A pair of dark eyes like a greyscale kaleidoscope, with a matching smirk.

   “Wait one second…” she narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the steadily filling coffee pot as the smell of liquid energy filled the kitchen. 

   Selene remembered the blue motorcycle, pushing it over to Nickie so it wouldn’t go to waste.  So how had she gotten so ingloriously hungover? 

   Lost in her silent reverie, she fixed a cup of coffee, more cream than anything.  She took a sip,  her growling stomach all but rioting at her lack of food. 

  VWith a roll of her eyes,  Fancy went on a wild hunt for her phone so she could order some food delivery, and found it thankfully not drenched in her pile of clothes but stuffed in the couch she’d been sleeping on. 

   She was a horrendously bad cook, and after she had caught the oven on fire about a year ago,  Louisa had strictly forbid her from using any machinery in the kitchen.  Besides the refrigerator and the coffee maker;  she wasn’t even allowed to touch even the toaster without a “capable adult” supervising her.