Welcome to the Jungle, Sweetheart

Headache

           Axl woke up that morning with a throbbing pain in his head. It was really early, He tried to think about what was going on but his head hurt so bad. He felt awful. His mind was still foggy but he wasn't as dazed as he was the night before. He felt so weird, he didn't feel like himself. Maybe he was sick. His stomach churned with discomfort from the alcohol. It was very unpleasant. He probably could've thrown up right then but he hated throwing up so whenever he had the option, he'd rather not.

He sat up on the floor next to the bed, unaware of whose bed the hell it was. However he was very aware of the other person's presence next to him, and a heavy weight at his feet. Sure enough, there was a girl laying next to him, and a smaller one at his feet. The one closest to him had light brown hair, a real looker, the girl at his feet had light, sort-of-blonde hair, which was messier than the first girl's hair. And of course nobody right there was wearing any clothes except Axl, who exclusively had his boxers. Axl was slightly thankful that at least one was a brunette, he liked them more than blondes, he never knew why.

Axl climbed away from the girls, also grateful that almost all of his clothes were right there next to him, and he slid his leather pants back onto his legs, pulling his shirt over his head. He glanced back at the two girls. He wondered why two, but he couldn't remember a thing from yesterday except for that tall guy that he met at the door. He wished that he could at least remember what the girls were like, if they were sweet girls or sluts. He was pretty sure the sort of blonde at his feet was slutty, but he had partially hoped the brunette was a nice girl. He wanted to remember her name, Lucy maybe? Was it Lucy? She seemed like a Lucy. She looked nice, even if she was asleep. She had curled into a tight ball and engulfed almost her entire body with the exception of her head and one shoulder, inside the blanket he shared with her. Where did the blanket come from? But Axl also felt a small, sharp pang of regret that he was leaving. If he could remember if she was a bitch he would just leave, but he had no way of knowing if she was, and if she was nice he would have liked to stroke her hair, even if he still felt horrible.

Axl at least carefully pulled the blanket over her shoulder and he was nice enough to even put a blanket over the sort-of-blonde. He left half of the blanket folded back to show he was there and had left, just in case they also were too drunk to remember last night, and he didn't want them to freak out at the possibility they just had sex with each other. Unless they were bisexual. Then that's fine. For all Axl knew, he might've just made out with one and the other two had sex after he passed out. He didn't think that would be like him, but again, no way to know.

Axl walked down the hallway, stepping over some unconscious people, empty liquor bottles, tossed about clothes, and he was keeping a bit of an eye out for his own jacket. When he walked out to the kitchen, there was, again, a lot of sleeping people, some clothed, others not. But what caught his eye was the girl, not asleep, very much so awake, wearing his leather jacket. Axl tilted his head curiously, which hurt, but he was too confused to notice.

She was a real pretty girl. She was short, which made Axl feel a little more confident because tall girls were about the same height as him. She had long, wavy dark brown hair that was pulled back in a messy ponytail. She had bright, stormy blue eyes and light freckles scattered over her face. Also, uh, she was kind of only wearing his jacket and her underwear. Axl wasn't even sure if she had a bra on, she had it wrapped so tightly on her body. But at least she was small enough that even Axl's jacket was big on her. And, y'know, Axl was kinda small for a guy.

Axl cleared his throat, "Hey doll, can I have my jacket?"

She looked at him and something flashed in her eyes and she looked down, "Er, sorry, I just um, couldn't find my clothes and was cold." Axl looked her up and down, she was fine, under different circumstances he might've hit on her, but he felt like shit, wasn't in the mood, and she didn't seem to be either.

Even after a good look or two, he couldn't quite figure her out. She seemed... regretful, like she was dragged here, and now regrets something she did last night, or, letting some guy do her. Maybe she didn't mind the sex, just thought she could've been doing something, or someone, in a better situation. How she is on a normal day though Axl was clueless.

Axl bit his tongue, he couldn't just take his jacket and leave her naked and alone. "Okay, um... Are you wearing anything, uh, underneath the jacket?" She eyed at him suspiciously, "Are you genuinely asking or are you hitting on me and just really suck?" Axl jammed his fists in his pockets, usually he would have some kind of smartass remark but he just felt really awful. "N-no, I-I just, want my jacket back..." Axl scuffled his feet in a newfound shyness, "And, y'know, I guess I just can't leave you like this.."

The girl bit her lip, "I, I've got my bra on? If that's what you mean..?" Axl nodded, "Okay, hold on." Axl took his shirt off and handed it to her, he couldn't help but notice her casting him a few glances up and down, but he ignored it being that she was probably just curious. "Here, take my shirt, and I'll take my jacket. Is that fair?" She thought for a moment, looking down at the shirt. "Yeah, I guess," she replied, accepting the t-shirt. Axl turned around for her so she didn't have to get down to her bra and have him look. Not that he'd care but he didn't want to be a pervert, or come off as one anyway.

"Okay, here's your jacket," she said, allowing him to turn around again. Axl took it from her hands and put his leather jacket on. "Thanks... and um... Look, whatever your reason is why your so... Apprehensive, just, if I were you, I'd find some pants or something, and I'd just go home as soon as you can. Places like this... They're a real bitch to be stuck in." She nodded and Axl figured, like himself, she almost said she could handle herself. But she just nodded, "Okay.."

Axl took out a piece of paper and wrote down his phone number on it and handed her it and one of his steel rings. "What are you doing?" She asked. "Just take it, if you're going home and, I don't know, some guy won't leave you alone, just take the ring and tell him you're married to some like, firefighter or something. Okay? And uh, this is my phone number, if you're ever in a difficult place and need someone. You don't have to call, just, do me a favor and take it, alright?"

She looked at the piece of paper, conflict glazing her eyes. She eventually took it, "Okay thank you... uh..." "Axl." She smiled softly, "Thank you Axl. My name's Michelle." Axl gently smiled back turning to leave, "Take care Michelle.."

Leaving the place, Axl wondered how in the hell he managed to keep up a conversation. I guess it distracted him from the pain that hit him so bad. It was a lot colder outside than it was earlier. The wind blew harder and hit his face sharply and he could barely see in front of him, whether it was from the hangover or the wind he didn't know.

He aimlessly stumbled down some streets for a while. Did he just turn on Melrose? No no, he went by Melrose, like, seven minutes ago. Or was that a different M street, or an N? What time even is it? It's still pretty damn dark outside. How long had he even been walking now? Ten minutes? Twenty-six? Somewhere between? Maybe longer? Maybe less? He wasn't sure, he wasn't even sure if he cared. He wasn't even sure why he was still walking. Where was he trying to go? He couldn't even remember if he had a destination when he first started going down the sidewalk.

With each step he took it felt like somebody hit him in the head with a hammer. Eventually Axl got too dizzy and too tired to walk anymore and he just sat down on the sidewalk, leaning against a lamp post. He was too exhausted to think, he didn't want to think. He was just done.

He rested his head back against the post and swallowed down his urge to cry. He hated crying. His skull throbbed in pain, it hurt so bad. Toxins from the alcohol sat at the bottom of his stomach but he refused to throw up. Only small thoughts floated through his head.

My leather jacket isn't keeping me warm... The cars are too loud... They need to be quieter... The people walking down the streets... They're looking at me... Why..?...Why should I care... It's not my problem... I'm gorgeous, let them stare....But everybody is too loud... My head hurts too much... I just... Want... to sleep...

Axl couldn't think anymore. Before he even realized what was happening, he had fallen asleep, on the sidewalk, against a lamp post.