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𝗚𝗼𝘁 𝗺𝗲 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻' 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝘆𝗽𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘄𝗮𝘆
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THE SUN BEAMED THROUGH the sheer curtains and onto the pink-haired girl in her slumber. She frowned at its disturbance, finally cracking her eyes open. Her double vision finally faded as she stared at the impeccably detailed ceiling.
This isn't my room. Where the fuck am I? She thought, jolting out of the fluffy white duvet she tangled herself in. Every effort she made to recall the events of the previous nights was futile, it only made her head pound even harder.
Her mouth was dry and her throat parched and sore. Her phone — which was hidden under the fluffy white sheets — was fully dead.
Her muscles ached as she stumbled towards the sliding door behind the sheer curtains. The balcony tiles blinded her from attempting to recognize the view. Emori didn't care enough about her whereabouts — whether she was kidnapped or is still deep in a dream — her only focus was trying not to puke on these beautiful tiles.
She slid the door open to a soft breeze. She took the fresh air in. Her eyes finally adjusted to the lighting. A clear blue sky with dancing palm trees, and a grotesque amount of mansions. Not anywhere near home. Oh. I'm at Seb's. Where's Oscar?
"I thought your ass was dead—" A deep voice along with footsteps crept up behind her. Emori shrieked. She shoved her elbow into the person's nose with all of the force her adrenaline and hangover could allow. He groaned while holding his nose. Emori couldn't have been more confused. "Emori, what the actual fuck?!"
Her heart dropped when she recognized the buzzcut of—
"—Ash?!"
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