For Better Or For Worse | Rihanna

XIII; September 27th, 2017

Eden Scott

You'd think a crew of construction workers had made camp inside my skull, considering how painful this pounding headache was.

It had hit me mere moments after waking up in mine and Robyn's bed. I don't know what I had done to deserve a headache like this, and the rest of my body also felt like shit.

"Rob?" I said as I heard footsteps moving around the room. My head was still hidden I'm under the covers; I really didn't want to see any sunlight right now. "You mind getting me some painkillers? And some water too, please?"

"Mhmm," she mumbled and walked off.

I waited a little bit before peaking my head from the bedspread. I was infinitely grateful for past me, or whoever it was, that had the insight to close the blinds in advance.

I reached for my phone, but I couldn't find it. That was odd, as I usually always left it at the bottom of my bedside table's lamp that doubled as a wireless charging dock. I tried to retrace what I could've done with it once I made it home, but what was even crazier is I couldn't remember a single thing.

The few memories I could muster were not only very vague, they felt very distant. I sat up now fully awaken. I didn't know what was going on, but something wasn't adding up.

I scanned around the room, looking for any signs of anything being out of the ordinary. Everything was in place, but looking under the covers I saw myself still wearing a pair of dress pants and some socks.

No shirt, or bra either. Inspecting the pants closer, I realized it was the same Dior pants I wore after the fashion show. Ostensibly, that was yesterday, right?

What did I do yesterday? I remember the fashion show... dinner with Jeremy... then I remember going to a bar and meeting a girl.

I did spend much of the night with some girl. Gia, I think? Anyways I don't think it mattered. I went home to Robyn afterwards and that's all that mattered.

Wait. My head snapped to the other side of the bed. None of Robyn's things were on her bedside table. I couldn't have gone home with Robyn, because she was in London. That was the whole point of me being out, I didn't want to be alone.

Fuck! My heart started beating like it was trying to jump out of my chest. Who the fuck was in my house?

Like on cue, the footsteps came back, and a woman wearing my girlfriend's bathrobe stepped in, holding a cup of water and a pill bottle.

"It took me a while to find these cause your place is crazy, but here," she stepped closer to the bed.

"Take that off!" I exclaimed, disturbed at seeing someone else wearing Robyn's things.

"Okay? I thought it would be harder to get in your pants," she laughed.

"Who are you?" I brought the covers up to hide my bare chest.

"Shit, you really did blackout? You said you could handle your shit," the girl put everything down and then came to sit next to me.

"Gia?" I tried. I didn't remember who I talked to, but I remembered a woman so it must be her.

"Yeah?" Okay, so I had that piece of the puzzle at least. Now I just needed to figure out why she was here and why I couldn't remember much.

"I blacked out? On what? Please tell me it was just alcohol?" And where the fuck was my shirt.

"I mean, you had some drinks back at my place, but I don't think that's what had you fucked. If anything it's easier to say what you didn't take than what you did."