Waking up in a strange room with a pounding headache felt like the old times, except this time the headache was ten times worse and I had barely any memories left of last night.
I tried looking around the room that was decorated in a very American way with loads of dark colours. I didn't have a clue where my phone was or my clothes even for that matter. Looking under the cover to check if I had any clothes on, but for my relief I still had my underwear on.
Sweeping through the messy nest that was my tangles hair I head a door click and I shot up in a blink of an eye.
"Good you're awake; I brought you a cup of coffee." Andy said caring a big trait towards me. What the fuck was he doing here?
"Um, I, what- care to explain what the hell are you doing here? Or what the hell am I doing here?" I blurred out in completely shock.
"Don't worry, you're at my house. And no, before you jump into any conclusion based on whatever this scenery is. No, I did not kidnap you and have sex with you against your will, actually no sex or even touching was involved. I found you outside of Piccadilly Circus half unconscious and brought you here since I have no clue where you lived." He explained calmly.
I stared at him in shock and disbelief of whatever he was saying to me. All I could remember was arriving at the party, drinking and taking some pills and then... oh no. I remembered a man and a woman who did god knows what to me, but I couldn't remember anything other than that.
"You okay Max? Can you remember anything? Or maybe why you were only wearing your underwear and a trench coat?" Andy questioned, now sounding more concerned than before. "Are you sure you weren't... you know..." He didn't even need to finish the sentence for me to realise what he was meaning.
"Oh my god I was not raped! Please stop asking that." I sighed falling back on the bed and pulling the covers over my head.
After taking a long overdue shower, I had no clue of how long I just stood there until Andy knocked on the door telling me he had brought me some of his old clothes for me. I turned off the shower and stepped out wrapping a towel around my waist.
Staring at my own refection from the mirror trying to gather all the pieces from last night, they just weren't adding up.
Who was the couple? How did I end up at Piccadilly Circus? What was Andy doing out so late? None of it just made any sense to me.
The clothes Andy had left me on the bed looked fine but they were all too big for me. Not saying he was fat or anything, I was just so small and he wasn't. I could have fit two of me inside of his t-shirt, and the jeans were too baggy for my taste, I preferred mine skinny as a second skin. I looked like a wannabe hip hop douche but it was this or be nude.
Andy peaked through the door covering his eyes, "You decent?"
"Yes you perv. Again, nothing you wouldn't have seen before anyway." I hummed.
"I didn't realise how small you actually were, you are nearly drowning in my clothes. I might have some of my girlfriend's clothes here if you want-"
"No, these are just fine. Thanks." I cut him off, feeling like a small useless kid. I hated it.
"Wait, were you just... nice to me?" He said acting dramatically. I rolled my eyes and flopped back onto the bed. "Nah, you wish doc. So tell me, how does an American end up here in London- or no even better, tell me how does a doctor end up becoming a pill popper?" I smiled smugly knowing I'd annoy him.
Andy sat down on the bed next to me laughing a "We are going straight into the deep stuff, I see." He smiled, lying down on the bed next to me. As Andy laid next to me staring up to the sealing. I couldn't help my eyes from wandering down his body. Which may I add, was 10/10 something I'd bang in a heartbeat. That is if it wasn't attached to the annoying human being called Andy. I wasn't even sure why I stuck around at his place for this long even. It's not like I was getting much out of this, since he wasn't telling me about his "illegal high" life.
A pillow flew straight to my lower abdomen shaking me out of my rambling mind. "You weren't even listening." Andy sighed.
"Sorry you clearly weren't interesting enough." And another pillow flew at me, this time hitting me in the face. I turned my head towards Andy grinning at me. "Oh hell no..." I cursed under my breath as I grabbed one of the pillows hitting Andy in the face with it.
"That's what you get for messing around with the product." I sat up and hissed at Andy who was looking like he was either about to laugh or cry, I couldn't tell.
Andy got up and moved closer to me, feeling his warm breath on my skin. Andy opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by a female voice calling his name from the other room. We both moved our gazed towards the room door to see a red headed woman standing in the doorway staring at us. I assumed this was Andy's so called girlfriend as she was too young to be his mother and didn't look remotely the same to be his sister either.
"Andy?" The red head questioned in confusion, "What is this?" she continued. The bed shifted as Andy stood up and walked over to his girlfriend to place a gentle kiss on her cheek.
"I didn't know you were coming. We were just talking about guy stuff here with Max." Guy stuff? What did that even mean?
"Andy hasn't mentioned anything about you, have you just met?" She asked looking at me strangely, like I was about to steal all of their things and burn down the house.
"We met awhile back. Max this is my girlfriend, Natasha. Natasha this is Max Young." Andy smiled before his girlfriend elbowed him, "Don't you mean fiancée?" Natasha smirked.
"Yes sorry, fiancée."
I felt a small jab in my heart as Andy said that, not knowing why though. Confused I got up from the bed walking by them telling I had to go for some important reason, which there wasn't. I just felt like I was slowly suffocating. They looked at me like I had gone mad as I stumbled away from them.
Continuing down a long hall I ended up founding a door that seemed like the exit from this rich hell. I opened the door to see another hallway full of other flats, but at least I was out of their hands. I collapsed next to door sliding down wall breathing intensely. This was one of the reasons I needed my drugs, panic attacks weren't nice. Especially when you had no clear idea of why you had them.
There is a long back story to all of this but I wasn't going to get into it in a strange hallway in a strange building, somewhere in London.
I made my way slowly out on to the streets, noticing I was in the one and only Chelsea. Of course, where else would a rich American live.
"Max! Wait up!" I heard an obnoxious American accent shout behind me; belonging to the one person I didn't want to see me like this, weak and pathetic.
Andy eventually caught up with me and placed his hand on my shoulder, which caused a wave of familiar electric shocks through my entire body. "Max, why did you leave in such hurry? Is everything alright?" He asked sounding concerned. Taking a deep breath and trying to act like I was completely fine even clearly I wasn't for god knows why.
"Everything is fine; I just have to go alright?" I lied, hiding my trembling hands behind my back. "Let me at least drive you home." Andy pleaded.
As much as I didn't want to be around him being like this, but if this was the only way to get him off my back then fine.
I followed him over to his shiny new white BMW.
"Does she know?" I asked with a quiet voice, I barely even heard myself. "Know what?" Andy wondered apparently not knowing what I was on about, "About the drugs." I clarified.
"Sort of... But Natasha thinks I have already quit, just like I promised her a long time ago." He sighed, sounding more serious than before. "Why haven't you then?" I turned my head to face him and I could tell by his expression that this wasn't something he liked to talk about.
"I don't know Max, why haven't you?" Andy snapped, clearly regretting it instantly. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to-"
"No it's fine, I get it." I spoke, cutting off his apology. I knew talking about addictions wasn't ever the most uplifting topic. I hated talking about the reason I got addicted to drugs in the first place, never in these past 4 years I have properly talked about it and I wasn't going to start now.
Coming from Chelsea, filled with the rich back to where I lived. You could really tell Andy and I lived in completely different worlds regardless of everything; we were never going to be the same.
Andy stopped the car and turned to me, waiting for me to probably run away again.
"Can I ask you one more thing?" I blurred out, not thinking about his answer. Andy nodded, with a faint smile remaining on his lips.
"Why do you care?" It was a question I had debated in my mind ever since the start. As could as I was at reading into people that I couldn't figure out. Andy's smile had faded and he was now staring at his hands on his lap, "I don't know, I really don't."