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Calum felt like a complete and total asshole as he watched Fallon storm off. He had gone and said the wrong thing. Again.

He hated himself for hurting her but he really was only trying to protect her. It seemed like every time he tried to do that though it came back to bite him. She was going to cry, he could tell in the way she had set her jaw before she turned away from him. She was going to cry and it was going to be his fault. That information damn near broke his heart and made him want to get very, very drunk.

He shot a look over to the small balcony area of the VIP section that overlooked the dance floor. MIcheal and Crystal, Luke and Sierra, along with Chayse and Wes all stood leaned against the railing, their eyes fixed on him. Great. Wonderful. They'd had an audience and it would be perfectly obvious to everyone that he had fucked up...again. He didn't want to deal with their friends, he didn't particularly want to be in the club anymore. The fight he had with Ashton earlier should have been warning enough that the night was headed nowhere good but he had hoped that there was time to save it. Instead, he would spend the rest of his night tucked into a bar stool trying his damndest to forget the night in its entirety.

And that's what he did. Drink after drink he downed alcohol until the neon lights along the back of the bar were blurry and his brain felt like it was floating outside of his body. He wasn't sure that, if asked, he would know his own damn name. That had been his intention though, hadn't it? He couldn't remember and he didn't particularly care. It felt nice to forget his problems.

He pushed the stool he had been sitting in back and the base scraped against the concrete floor making an awful screeching noise that made him wince. He steadied himself, his hand braced against the chair back and his eyes closed as he found his center of gravity before he dared a glance out to the dance floor.

He would have to wade through the sea of people, all of whom seemed to have donned elaborately revealing excuses for costumes in order to reach his intended goal: the exit. There wasn't any way to avoid it so after a moment of testing his balance he headed into the throng, doing his best to slip between the dancing pairs. He had almost made it to the other side when he felt a hand grab on to his. He frowned as he looked backwards, confused as he saw the blurred outline of a woman, she had dark hair and was dressed in a sexy police outfit.

"I saw you trying to make an escape, but I believe I have a warrant for your arrest." She said coyly. She was clearly flirting with him and he knew he should resist but with his current level of inebriation she sounded like Fallon and her hair was like hers had been before the pink dye and he was sad and lonely and fuck it...

*

Oh shit.

Oh holy fucking shit.

That was all Calum could think as he stared at the naked, sleeping figure of a woman in the bed of his hotel room the next morning. His head was throbbing and the panic that set in at the sight that laid in front of him was doing nothing to help the raging hangover.

He had done the whole one night stand thing before but not with Fallon back in the picture. The last time had been when he and Ashton had gone out right before the tour had started.

This was exactly why. He felt sick. He stood, walking on shaking knees to the bathroom where he proceeded to throw up everything that had previously occupied his stomach. The sound of his retching woke the girl up. Thankfully, she seemed to understand the protocol and she was finishing dressing herself back into her costume from the night before, a smug smile across her face as he walked back towards the bed.

"Last night was fun, next time you're in town give me a call. We can do it again."

Hah. Not likely.

Somebody I Don't Know : Book 1 of the Teeth SeriesWhere stories live. Discover now