Beneath the Sharps & Flats

♫Chapter 7- Partying Aftershocks♫

Chapter Seven

The first thing I realize when I wake up is my throbbing migraine. The light from the beautiful, but highly annoying sun is piercing my eyes and I want nothing more than to strangle it with a barbed wire. Although, that might be sort of difficult considering the sun is just a ball of extremely hot gas.

"Hot damn," Wes groans beside me as I squint to make out her face clearly.

"Tylenol," I moan as my temple spikes up into what feels like a knife being twisted further into my skull repeatedly, "I need the Tylenol."

"Shoot, you're up," Wes says, propping herself up on her side to face me.

"I'm never drinking again," Gen mumbles into her pillow from the opposing side of Wes.

I glance down at myself, intending to ignore the headache behind my eyes as I rest to a sitting position. I notice that I still am clothed in my black party dress from last night. Somehow, my heels rest by my dresser and my fedora rests back on my shelf of hats.

"How the did I get here?" I question them both, gazing groggily between the two of them.

"How about we wait to tell you some major details after we clean up," Gen suggests.

"Agreed," Wes replies, whimpering as she hobbles over to my body length mirror.

"Holy cats," she exclaims dramatically, making me jump out of my skin, "I look like I just came out of the freaking Walking Dead!"

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Gen smile as she clutches her head and leans against the wall.

"May I use your shower to clean up?" she asks. "I can't have my overly strict parents suspecting anything."

I nod. "I'll get us all some Tylenol and breakfast while you're at it."

Apparently, Gen decides to change out of her party clothes because she wears a white Under Armor tank top with cotton black shorts. Her tangled blonde curls are thrown carelessly into a high ponytail at the apex of the back top of her head. She actually looks stunning besides the mascara and eyeliner smeared across her cheeks and beneath her eyes. Meanwhile, I decide to hop in the shower quickly before I cook them breakfast. I lay some Tylenol out on my dresser, enough for Wes and Gen, and pop two pills in my mouth, downing them with faucet water. I quickly snatch my bathrobe, soap, and toothbrush from the bathroom I share with Gabe and Luke and quickly hurry into my dad's bedroom. I check if the cost is clear and sure enough, my father has already left for work on this annoyingly sunny morning. I swear if the sun threatens to shine directly into my pupils again, my retinas will be burnt to a crisp.

I hop in the shower, rinsing the excess grease from my body and hair, whilst scrubbing furiously at my face to remove the smeared makeup. I don't look myself in the mirror once, afraid that my current self would be haunting my dreams. I just let the hot water relax my tensed muscles and soothe my body.

I exit the shower and quickly use a tan colored towel to dry myself. I wrap my psychotic hair in a small towel before slathering cheery blossom smelling lotion all over my newly shaven legs and wrinkled hands. I rapidly step into my under armor and a spaghetti strapped, yellow neon tank top with fuzzy polar bear pajama pants. I then shrug my purple robe on and release the beast out of its cage (a.k.a. my snarls from its towel). I brush the snarls out of my hair before parting it and clicking my mother's old blow dryer on to halfway dry my hair. After that's finished, I quickly discover my hair will not be cooperating with me today so I throw it up into a messy bun on the top of my head. I unlock the bathroom door whilst slipping on a pair of owl slippers (don't judge) and tread back to my room to find Gen with her wet blonde hair clinging to her back and Wes furiously removing the mascara from her face with cotton balls.