Scratched

Twenty Six

TWENTY SIX

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My phone buzzed, jolting me from my sleep. I shot upright in bed and instantly felt pain explode in my head. I groaned, running my hands over my face and into my hair. I reached for my phone, pressing it to my ear. My voice came out scratchy like I had used it too much the night before. No doubt from my night out with Reed. "Why are you calling so early?" I whined as I grabbed my pillow again. I brought it to my, resting my face against the cool underside of it. It was heavenly.

Reed chuckled. You'd think it had only been me who had been drinking last night. "Good to see you're up and cheerful this morning," he said sarcastically. If I'd had the energy I would have been irritated. Instead I was just exhausted. I reached around on the nightstand, looking for Tylenol I had left the night before. My hand brushed something and I grabbed it. But instead came away with that same clown that had been floating around from place to place for days.

"Goddamn it, Reed," I mumbled.

"Oh, found it did you?" he asked.

"Did you want something or what?

I cast the clown aside and finally found the Tylenol, popping them dry. I wasn't about to get out of bed and to be perfectly honest I wasn't sure that I was quite capable yet. I threw my arm over my eyes, blocking out the sun as I waited for Reed to get on with whatever he had called for. "It's just a little something. Your band mates are just waiting for you to—you know—start work on your second music video. Ian says hi, by the way."

That got my attention. I was out of bed in record time. I rushed around, grabbing up what clean clothes I could find. I threw on a skirt and a tank top and a glitter cardigan. I was actually rather proud of it. I had found it in a thrift store. It looked remarkably like the one Jeff Buckley had worn. I had instantly loved it. "What's the address?" I demanded as I rushed out of room. I raced to the elevator, nearly falling in the boots I was wearing.

Reed rattled off the address as I stepped out of the elevator. I rushed across the lobby, dodging several elderly tourist. I tossed an apology over my shoulder and then I was out the door. I snagged a cap, slipping into the back street. I gave him the address and the finally relaxed back against the seat, letting out a long breath. "By my count that was ten minutes!" Reed announced. I rolled my eyes, pressing my fingers into my temples. I closed my eyes, hating the feeling of my turning stomach. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Like shit, what do you think?"

"That's no attitude to have."

"Why are you so cheerful?"

The cab swung around a corner, jolting me in my seat. I sighed, leaning my elbow against the window and propping my head up too. "You mean why am I not hung over?" he asked me. I nodded even though he couldn't see me. "It's because I haven't finished drinking yet. The best way to get over a hangover is to never have one. Brilliant, I know." The cab sped passed a city bus and cut off down another street. I glanced at the time on my phone. I hoped I'd get there soon or I was afraid I'd get sick all over this fine cab.