The Nerd is Actually Bad

Hangovers and Drunk Games

Chapter 4:

"Wake up! Wake up!"

I groan. "Shut the fuck up!" I scream.

"Get out of my club! The both of you insolent children!" A deep voice says from above me.

I sigh and slowly open my eyes, but quickly shut them at the sight of the intense sunlight streaming in through the windows.

"Where the fuck am I?" I ask and open my eyes and blink rapidly to get used to the light.
I see that I'm still in the club I raced at yesterday, and that I'm sitting in one of the bar stools laying my head on the counter with a bit of drool on the spot were my mouth was dangerously close to.
I sigh, how attractive.

"Well you're in my club, and it's already 8:30 in the morning." A voice says beside me. I lift up my head from the counter and immediately press my fingers on my temple because of the pain that hit me when I got up.

I look up and see a man that looks to be in his mid forties, dressed in a suit and tie that says, "another day, another nickel," and a glare on his slightly wrinkly face, making his dark blue eyes appear even darker.
The look is quite comical, on a normal day I would've laughed and insulted him, but due to the pounding headache I'm sporting, I'm not sure I can do either of those.

"Who are you?" I ask dumbly. Wow, okay, I think my IQ level just went down a couple of notches.

"Like I just said, I'm the owner of the club you are currently sleeping in, and I don't appreciate sleeping teenagers in my club."

"Teenagers? I'm the only one here."

"What about the naked gentleman sitting behind you drooling on my counter top." He says pointing behind me.

I frown and turn around, only to find Chris in the same position I was, except he has no clothes on but his boxers, and has drool running out of his mouth.

What the actual fuck?

I sigh and turn around to look at the man in front of me.
"I'm terribly sorry, sir. I have no recollection of the events that happened last night and for all I know I could've been drugged and put in this position to make me look bad. You see, I'm Alina Stone, a champion from the underground races that happen in your secret part of the club. I hope you can understand that I have a lot of enemies always trying to make me look bad." I say finishing with a serious look on my face.

He looks impressed at my speech, and damn even I'm impressed. What I said wasn't a total lie though. I do have a lot of enemies, just not ones that would even dare to drug me to make me look bad.

He sighs. "This time I would let you get off the hook. I guess people these days can do something like this to make you look bad; just don't drink so much and it won't happen again next time." He says in a condescending tone.

I nod. "I'm just going to wake up my friend and get out of your hair." I say gesturing to a still snoring Chris unaware of what's happening around him.

He nods and starts to walk to the back of the club.

I get up, fingers still pressed against my temple, and slowly make my way to the bathroom. I open the door and walk in after turning on the light. I close it and lock it behind me. I look at myself in the mirror, and wished I hadn't.

I look like a raccoon who had just been ran over by a truck and miraculously survived.
My hair looks like a birds nest, my eyes look like someone punched me and gave me two black eyes, and my clothes look wrinkled and dirty.

I turn on the sink's faucet and wash my face away from all sleep and mascara that had been currently dried on my face. I put my hair in a messy bun and look at myself in the mirror once again.