Setting: Hidden Hills, Los Angeles County, California
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Hangover God's way of saying, "you fucked up last night."
Tucked underneath a limited edition, white Pottery Barn duvet and a plethora of pillows in the master bedroom of one of the most expensive compounds in the hidden hills of California was a terribly hungover popstar. A groan slipped through her chapped lips as she rolled onto her stomach and buried her face into the crook of her arm, trying to shield herself from the sun as much as possible. Despite the amount of times she tugged the fabric over her face and despite how tight she shut her eyes, the sun still nearly blinded her and worsened the pounding of her head. She wasn't even going to waste her time by sending out an infamous "I'm never drinking again" snapchat because everyone knew that was far from the truth. A hangover couldn't keep her away from a bottle of vodka and everyone knew that. But as her head pounded in her skull and she felt everything that she didn't eat last night churn in her stomach, she certainly did regret going as hard as she did last night. Celebrating shouldn't have left her feeling so shitty, even if she had a lot to celebrate.
There were a few lessons that Demi had learned last night, lessons that she would have to remember next time that she decided to go out and "celebrate." The first was that Kendall Jenner is insane (and a little too touchy) with cocaine in her system. The second was that she always needed to bring along an extra friend whenever she decided to party with the likes of models such as Kendall, Hailey Baldwin, and the Hadid twins. And the third was that Hennessy and patron are not friends but they will come together to jump your ass.
Finally opening her honey brown eyes, Demi Lovato mentally cursed herself. Not only for drinking, but for thinking that having a basically all white room was a good idea. The sheer whiteness of her room was making the sun even worse, resulting in her headache increasing as she rolled onto her back and looked up at her ceiling. Next time she decided to move, she would make smarter interior design choices because this white room was killing her.
After finding out that she did indeed get booked for the Gucci campaign that her management had been lobbying for since last summer, she decided to call up some of her friends and hit up one of the hottest clubs in town. Getting crazy wasted hadn't been on her agenda but when she drank...she drank. There really was no stopping her, and now she wished she had dragged along one of her real friends that would've stopped her when they saw that she was getting too out of control. What else were friends for?
The one thing that Demi was absolutely grateful for was the silence in her house. Even though it was bright and she didn't have the energy to drag herself out of her bed to close her blinds, the house was relatively quiet. Her dogs weren't even making a sound. It made it so much easier to swallow her nausea, close her eyes, and allow the silence to lure her back to sleep.
The silence in her Hollywood hills house was short lived because she heard her two dogs barking downstairs, meaning that someone had come in and was coming to interrupt her morning. Or afternoon. She really didn't know. All she knew was that it was bright as hell and she would do anything for a few more hours of sleep. But with the life she lived and the people who worked for her, there was no way that would happen.
