What Happens In Vegas | ✓

01 | the hangover

I was not a morning person.

Especially when I knew the morning would consist of headaches and nausea. Immediately when I peeled my eyes open, I regretted my actions from last night. Fuck, I'm an idiot. I had been gone after the fourth shot last night. Undoubtedly a completely different person.

I hadn't necessarily meant to get shitfaced drunk, but one thing led to another, and one glass of wine led to several shots of something stronger, and before I knew it I was drunk off my mind. I had gone to Las Vegas last night with my best friend, Jack. It was only a thirty minute drive from our suburb to Vegas, and we had decided to go to let loose and celebrate yet another grueling week of work coming to an end.

I wracked my brain, trying to remember at least bits and pieces of what had happened last night. All I could remember was arriving at the nightclub, starting off with a glass of red wine, and accepting a dance from a handsome stranger. I vaguely remembered ordering shots, but everything went blank after that. I'm never getting that drunk again. It wasn't worth the hammering pain my head was currently in.

I sighed heavily, reaching over to my nightstand in the darkness to retrieve the water bottle that I hoped I had left there. I thanked my drunk self for remembering to shut the blackout curtains over my window. I couldn't possibly deal with the sun right now.

I aimlessly patted around on the nightstand, coming up empty. I groaned dramatically, my hand flying to brush back the tangles of hair tickling my forehead. I winced in pain as something cold and hard scratched my skin, a stinging pain following in its path. I felt around my hand for the culprit, and froze when I felt something bulky on my left ring finger. I mumbled obscenities under my breath. I didn't own any rings of this size. What the hell had I done last night?

Heaving myself out of the bed, I stumbled over to my bathroom, tripping over scraps and piles of fabric. Brushing my hair back from my face again, I flicked on the bathroom light, wincing at the sudden brightness. My eyes quickly adjusted, and I looked down at my hand. My blood ran cold. I shakily brought my hand closer to my eyes, inspecting the diamond ring on my finger in shock.

What the hell had I done last night? My mind was reeling. Surely this couldn't be what I thought it was. Certainly I hadn't gotten married last night, had I?

Forgetting about my pounding headache, I ransacked my apartment, searching for any signs of a strange man. I turned the lights on in my bedroom, digging through the heaps of fabric to look for anything that didn't belong to me.

I ransacked my apartment, looking for anything. A shirt, some shoes, hell, even a single hair. But I came up empty. Nothing was out of place. Nothing gave off the sign that someone other than me had been here. Nothing was on my phone, no new contacts, followers, or anything of the sort. It had seemed that I came home alone last night and immediately got in the bed. I was still wearing my clothes from yesterday. I hadn't even changed.

How the hell was I supposed to find whoever I married?

I was close to hyperventilating, so I did what any logical person would do in that moment.

Run three blocks down the street to the small bakery that my best friend worked.

I knew I looked terrible, but I didn't care in the slightest. I didn't even bother brushing my teeth. I had bigger fish to fry. Like who the hell bought me this ring. There was no way in hell that I bought this myself. This ring looked expensive, way more than any of my debit or credit cards could afford.

I hated feeling like this. Unsure and unknowing of what exactly had gone down last night. It was very unlike me to get that drunk, and even on the few occasions in the past that I had gotten that drunk, I still had some sort of memory of it, even if it was hazy. I usually kept myself on a tight leash, only letting myself free on rare special occasions. I wasn't one to succumb to being peer pressured into drinking, so I knew that didn't play a role in whatever went down that night.