Heartbreak in Stereo

The Hangover

I woke up once again feeling like the human embodiment of shit. I glanced around a messy room with dull eyes, panic beginning to rise in my already-churning stomach. I tried to move, but my limbs felt heavy and unresponsive. Had I been drugged or something? No hangover could feel this horrible surely. I managed to sit up but I was soon hit by the unrelenting waves of a killer headache. I clutched my head, muttering profanity under my breath.

"Fucking hell..." I groaned, swinging my legs over the edge of the dingy bed I'd been lying on.

Lucky for me the curtains were drawn, enveloping the room in a heavy darkness. Light was the last thing I needed right now. I threw the covers off me and pulled myself up with a loud grunt. My first goal of the day was to get a fucking glass of water. My throat felt like a damn desert.

I stumbled a few times during my journey to the door and opened it quietly, pausing to look at my surroundings. The first thing I noticed was the heavy snoring emitting from the body draped over the couch. I approached, stepping over all kinds of crap before yanking the blanket off the person's face. I nearly had a heart attack when I saw it was Frank, his body twisted in a weird position and his arm falling over the edge. I held back a laugh at the sight of him drooling.

I was just happy I wasn't in some random creeper's house.

But I'd only met him yesterday.

"Frank." I persisted, shaking him gently by the shoulders. He groaned and rolled over showing me his back. I shook him again. "Frank!" I hissed, yanking the pillow out from underneath his pretty little head. It hit the sofa with a soft thud but he didn't appear to care.

I rolled my eyes and made for the kitchen whilst avoiding various obstacles such as beer cans, bottles, empty pizza boxes, and broken guitar strings. I tripped over a shoe or two and began to hunt down the glasses. I searched through his barren cupboards filled with the generic foods of a young irresponsible adult; noodles, pop tarts, and cereal. A few soup cans were stacked lazily in there, too. The mess was driving me crazy.

I eventually seized a glass with a triumphant smile and flicked on the tap, trying to ignore the leaning tower of dirty dishes teetering dangerously beside me. This guy lived in a pig sty. 

I sipped my water carefully, relishing the cool feeling it brought as it slithered down my aching throat. I nearly finished my glass but stopped myself, marching back over to Frank and emptying the last of the water over his face. He shot up then, his face like thunder. 

"That was uncalled for." He growled and wiped his face with the blanket. 

"Morning." I replied with a sly smile.  It faltered when a sharp pain shot through my head without warning. I stumbled a bit and took a seat next to Frank, rubbing my head a little. 

"It's nearly noon. And can I just mention how fucked you were last night? Never in all my life have a witnessed something like that." Frank said with a laugh. "I'm surprised you even managed to make it out of bed." 

"Yeah, laugh it up. Just know you got a seventeen year old drunk." I muttered. 

"Blame Gerard. I would never condone under-age drinking." He stated. 

My gaze slid across to him and I squinted. Frank raised his tattooed hands and got up, patting me on the shoulder sympathetically. I wanted nothing more than to cut his hand off, but I couldn't find the strength to lift my arm.

"Do you want an Aspirin or something? You look like hell." He commented.

"You're kidding, right? You live like a college student. The only thing worth eating in your kitchen is the out-of-date box of pop tarts." I said, a soft groan soon following afterwards.