Be Mine Forever

Chapter Four

Alec: 

Wednesday, May 8th

I blink a few times as I glance over at the window, with beautiful too bright sunlight pouring through it, and roll onto my back as I try to orient myself. Okay, what happened last night? There was the staff party and then I came home and.. talked to Remi.. then went to bed? "Uhhh," I groan as I rub my hands against my face, trying to wake myself up and make the monster headache I have go away. Uggh, where's Remi? He usually stays in bed with me until I have to leave for work. So where is he? I start rubbing the grit out of my eyes and then hear the distinct sound of the shower turning on. Huh? Our shower is obnoxiously loud, so loud that when you turn it on you will hear the water flowing through the pipes until you turn it off.

Why is he taking a shower so early? According to the clock on our nightstand it's only 6:20, a whole hour and forty minutes before Remi has to leave for work; is he going out for a run? I roll over, which doesn't help my head and sends my nauseous stomach into turmoil and spot one of my aggressively bright sticky notes on Remi's pillow. Weird. I grab it off his pillow and start reading it, though it being neon yellow doesn't exactly help with my hangover. I'm just going to be in the shower for a bit, hope your hangover isn't too bad. Why'd he leave this? It's really sweet and everything but it's not like Remi and he knows I'll hear him in the shower.

Well speaking of the obnoxiously loud shower, I'm pretty sure I just heard it turn off. I could ask him once he gets done grooming himself. That will probably require a little bit of patience though. Since Remi's a model he's pretty strict with his appearance and spends a lot of time making sure he looks nice, even if it's just for something mundane. Well, I guess I'm just going to have to think about my hangover until Remi can tell what the note's for. I tuck said note under the edge of Remi's pillow so I don't lose it and then bury my face against my own pillow to help with my pounding headache.

It's not as bad as some other hangovers I've had but it still hurts like a, I can't really think of a better word to describe it, bitch. Like it feels like someone put my head in a vice and is just tightening and tightening the vice to the point where my head feels like it's going to be crushed. And my nausea isn't any better; all the food I ate last night is trying to eject itself up my throat and onto my bed. But I'm pretty sure if I get up that I'm just going to vomit all over the rug and that would be hell to clean up. "God fucking dammit," I curse against my pillow.

I know it's not Andrew's fault entirely for me drinking that beer, since I could've just said no, but I just want to blame everything on him. He's such a jackass and always pokes at me and Briana for being ace and not liking having sex and then asks us if we've just never tried it. Then he'll tell us that he knows lots of friends if we ever do want to try it out. Like why can't I blame him? He knows I have trouble saying no to stuff and then he offers me some beer, knowing that I'll feel guilty saying no. It's totally his fault!

"Uggh." I start rubbing my palms against my forehead to help with the squeezing headache, which now feels like that time Briana put me in a headlock when we were kids. That hurt way worse than feeling like my head was stuck in a vice since Briana has the arms of the Rock and was trying to show me how strong she was. While I'm rubbing my palms against my forehead trying to get my head to stop feeling like it's being crushed like a walnut, the only thing I can think is, I'm never drinking again after this, never again. I seriously mean never again, I'll just drink water or juice or something. I'll be like a Catholic or something, abstaining from sin or whatever it's called.

I wonder how Briana's doing with her hangover, I kind of hope she's doing as bad as me, not to be cruel, I just don't want to be the only one suffering. And plus maybe she'll be wanting to strangle Andrew too and we could convince Viola to stick him on bathroom duty. I'm pretty sure that would make me feel a little better. And maybe get Briana to curse them out a little, it would feel so good to see them get chewed out. Even if I'm too shy to do the actual chewing out. "Uuuugh," I groan as my stomach lurches again, sending a pleasant bit of stomach acid up my throat. I roll over so I'm laying on my side and try to focus on something other than my stomach by looking out our slightly big, nine-foot by nine-foot, living/dining room window.