Just What I Needed

Just What I Needed (47)

“First of all, the fact that you were passed out and I was carrying you would have looked a bit suspicious. Plus, I doubt the girl would have given you one seeing as you'd just called her a bitch.”

“I called her a bitch?” she gasped.

Smirking Seth rummaged through the duffel bag that was laying beside the bottle of Jack on top of the bureau. “Why is she a bitch?”

Rubbing her temples, although that was far from soothing her pounding head, Keely pulled in a deep breath. “Nothing big,” she mumbled, feeling more than embarrassed by herself as the moments passed by.

With that in mind Keely clambered off the bed, stumbling slightly as a wave of vertigo shook her. “I am officially never ever drinking again,” she muttered as she placed a hand on the wall to steady herself.

“You know I think everyone says that about ten times in their life, and never actually follows through,” said Seth thoughtfully from where he was leaning against the counter.

Sending a glance his way, Keely could feel a scowl come onto her face as she noticed the amused expression on his face. She was definitely putting her bad mood down to her pulsating head, no one could be in a good mood when every sound felt like a chain saw screeching in your mind. And she could only guess it was worse for a musician who relied so much on their hearing where others could not.

“You would know, wouldn't you?” she snapped.

Shrugging he just popped open a bottle of Advil, shaking some into his hand before throwing them back into his mouth. “Yeah, I would,” Seth replied evenly, snatching up her sweater and bag from where they was hanging on the dresser and handing it to her while pressing the bottle of painkillers into her other hand.

For a moment she just looked at him, feeling a line coming between her brows at the concentration it was taking at that moment, ignoring that jump in her pulse she'd long forgotten about. “Uh, thanks,” Keely returned in hopes that he would understand the lengths the last word was going, she just wasn't good at thanking him or even being in the same room with him anymore. Without another word she turned on her heel, tripping over the rug upon the floors before reaching the door.

When she glanced back to him, Seth just looked deep in thought, his eyes unfocused as he stared at the wall as the hand he had leaned against the dresser started tapping on the wood.

Pulling a confused expression, Keely just walked through the door, closing it gently behind her.

Not entirely looking forward to the fact she had to go get a new room key while looking as if she was taking the walk of shame, although for all intensive purposes she was, but not seeing any way around it, she moved towards the elevator at the end of the hall. Yanking her sweater over her shoulders as she did so and tossing back a few of the Advil that Seth had handed her.

As expected the getting of the new key wasn't too enjoyable. The old man running the desk was giving her distasteful looks, though she couldn't say if that was because he heard about the bitch incident or due to the fact that he thought of musicians as second class citizens as many people did, another thing she'd learnt on tour. Telling him repeatedly she'd simply left the key in her room, Keely waited anxiously in her wrinkled clothing, messy hair and sunken eyes from the hangover, tapping her foot on the marble floor.

When she finally got the key, she had to resist the strong urge to just sprint up to her room and hide, mostly because she didn't doubt there would be vomiting involved if she moved that fast. Instead she just leaned against the wall of the elevator, closing her eyes and taking in calming breaths as the movement combined awfully with her already weak stomach.