Consequences

Chapter 1: Clueless Hookup

The lights were so bright. Flashes of blue and purple as the people passing became blurrier and blurrier. I don't think I stumbled, but next thing I knew my hands were pressed against the sticky floor. The dried alcoholic beverages spilt coated my palms.

A guy helped me up. His hands not caring that mine were now sticky and rancid. I remember tapping my thumb and pointer together, repulsed by the germs and infections that must now be on my hands. I look back at the guy. I remember why I'm here: to get absolutely drunk and hook up. The absolutely drunk part is taken care of; I haven't stopped giggling over stupid shit for the past thirty minutes. Now, I just needed a hookup.

The guy that helped me off the floor is rattling off some words to me, but none of them of processed in my brain. The music is so loud. My brain is blurry. I'm not sure if I love it or hate it. It doesn't matter anymore, because I'm going home with this guy tonight. I smile at him, while he's still saying words that are drowned out by a popular party song.

He has dark hair and an average looking face. Slightly taller than me, so maybe 5' 7"? He notices my smile and looks down at my lips.

"What do you say we go back to your place?" I think I said something along the lines of that...

...

I'm hot.

Not the attractive hot, like the burning my skin off hot. Though, also the attractive kind. I attempt to kick the heater of a blanket off me, but I'm pretty sure this blanket is a person.

I groan, and my eyes crack open only to quickly shut themselves once again. Light drapes the room in streams of gold. My head aches. The events of last night replay in my mind.

Consequences of my actions are catching up to me.

I slowly open my eyes. Pain shoots through my brain, but I ignore it as I look around the familiar but unfamiliar room. It's familiar in the fact that it looks like every single guy in their twenties room looks like. Beer posters hang on the walls, trash litters the outskirts of the room, and the bedspread is the infamous navy and grey color scheme.

How original.

I roll to face my blanket/person, which I'm quite sure is a person. The guy from last night rests beside me; his arm is wrapped around my middle. Now, I see him in more clarity without the drunk haze from last night. His fluffy hair stops right above his brows and stubble peppers his chin. He's nothing out of the ordinary, but I could argue that he's hot.

None of that matters, because I need to get out of here. I push the guy's arm off of me, being careful to not wake him. The last thing I want is a morning after confrontation. The cold air hits my skin after I leave the bed. I'm also naked. Perks of not being sober enough to remember to put clothes back on. The tight black top I wore last night is laying on the desk in the corner of the room. I quickly pull it on. My underwear are no where to be found, but my jeans are lying in a heap on the floor. I forgo the underwear.

I make my way to his bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror. Mascara that wasnt washed off now adorned my eyes in crescents. My hair was frizzed and knotted. The top I put on was also backwards. I turn on the faucet and wash most of the makeup from my under eyes and pat down my hair. I assess my appearance in the mirror; Still ugly, but atleast a polished ugly.

Walking back out to the bedroom, my one night stand watched me enter. He sat on the edge of the bed, clearly waiting for me to reenter the room. His eyes had a glaze to them, and he hadn't bothered to put clothes on. I made an effort to not stare; I might have had sex with him, but I didn't want to remember it. He didn't feel the same way.

He looks me up and down and sighs while running a hand through his hair. A smile plays on his lips. "Damn, last night," he trails.

I press my lips together. "Yeah, last night," I repeat. "Well, bye." I grab my purse from his desk and turn on my foot to leave.

Please, let me leave. Just let me leave.

"Wait‐"

Damn it.

I should open the door and leave, but I like making my life difficult. Turning back with a smile that was not genuine, I reply in a pitch that brinked insanity, "Yes?"

He stands up. "I had a great night. Let me drive you home." He's still naked. It shouldn't bother me. I slept with him. But I have a great aversion to naked people when I'm not drunk.

I step away from my clueless hookup. My eyes stay very focused on his. "No, no. You don't have to. You're not even dressed, and I can call an Uber. It's no big deal."

He looks down at himself and hmphs like he wasn't aware of his situation. He moves over to a pile of clothes and puts his jeans back on. "I insist."

How do I get out of this? I play with the latch on my purse as the guy puts on a shirt. This is my last chance to say something before I'm stuck in a car with Mr. Naked and Unafraid.

"I really can get myself home."

He smiles at me. "No, I insist."

This began a series of actions and consequences of my actions that would affect me for the rest of my life.

...

A/N: This is only the beginning. It's been quite a while since I've written anything serious... I have great things planned for this story, though. It will be slow on updates. Just stick with me. Life is crazy. However, I want to motivate myself to continue to write, of only for myself than anyone.

Also, family members, I apologize for the swearing and explicitness. It gets better, I promise. We have to start somewhere (: . Our main character is just a bit rough around the edges.

Anyways, yeah. Thanks for reading! Have a wonderful day!