4. Morning After

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-Chase-

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-Chase-


I stared at the white ceiling above my head, lying on a bed and listening to the sound of an alarm clock. I was already done with the day, even though I hadn't been awake longer than ten seconds. The awful beeping of the clock tore its way inside my head, and I spent the next few seconds plotting to murder the person who invented that sound, and all those idiots who supported him by buying his products.

Including the still snoring man on my left. I peered at him shortly and cringed at myself when I recognized the face. Brett. I had plenty of exes and I still ended up sleeping with Brett. The whole reason I went out last night was getting my mood up, but instead of eliminating some of the misery, loneliness and regular phases of hating everything about my life, I now received a good amount of self-hate as a bonus.

Brett clearly wasn't waking up even though the alarm was blaring right next to his ear, so I got out of the bed and glared at the clock until I heard something break inside it. When the sweetness of silence filled the small bedroom, I turned to look at the clothes, scattered around the floor. I shivered while thinking about myself last night... I'd been in such a hurry to jump in the bed with the worst ex-boyfriend on my list that I didn't even watch where my expensive clothes landed in the filthy room.

And boy, it was filthy. Just like me.

"Clothes," I muttered, spreading my arms a bit. Nothing happened, which caused my annoyance turn into irritation. "Clothes!"

I knew I'd get scolded for using magic on such mundane tasks as getting dressed, but I wanted to get the hell out of that apartment, and every second counted. Once I made sure all the clothes had appeared on me the right way around, and I wasn't missing socks or boxers, I left the room and called for my bag. By the time I reached the door, my belongings had returned to me, but the use of magic had made my need to throw up even worse, so I slapped a hand over my mouth before practically flying out the door and down the stairs to the ground level – I'd much rather embarrass myself by barfing in the bushes than stay a second longer at Brett's.

While walking home, I texted my best friend, Zane, berating him for letting me hook up with Brett. He berated me for letting him take a sip of a drink that was offered to him by pixies. Suddenly me getting banged by Brett didn't seem like such a bad way to end the night, after all.

Never take anything from pixies.

I assumed he was still relatively alive since he replied to my text, so I didn't bother stopping by his house on my way home – being alive was a sign that he was recovering and would be just fine later in the evening. I had to hurry if I wanted to be at the tea shop by eleven to open the joint, and it was already closing in on ten. I needed to take a shower first. I saw a glimpse of myself in a window of a store, and I wanted to gag. My short, unevenly cut, white hair was a mess, I had weird stains on my white jeans and red wine on my blue hoodie. And on top of that, I was missing two of the seven silver earrings I had in my right ear! A big one shaped like a feather, sparkled with real diamonds, and a small, spike stud right above it. I had no recollection of what could've happened to those two.

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