My life's biggest hangover kind of was destined to occur in Barcelona, right? Or else destiny would be twisted... right?
Ever since I threw up, I have a huge blackout, as I woke up in an apartment I didn't know. The couch was quite comfortable and cozy, while the decoration was really pretty. It was a perfectly-balanced mix between old and modern, as the predominance of the color blue was really highlighting the apartment. It wasn't big, nor small, but just perfect.
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I get up slowly, my head hurting like a bitch, only to realize that some Irfen (medication against pain of any sort) were displayed on the small table in front of me, as well as a glass of water. Hardly swallowing the water without vomiting, I then get up and look around, curious. In front of me, on display, was a beautiful painting of a 60-year-old or something woman with glorious brown hair and hazel eyes.
