-𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦

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cw: hang over, public sex, deep feelings

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cw: hang over, public sex, deep feelings

VICTORIA GROANED THE MOMENT SHE OPENED HER EYES. She had absolutely no idea how she even managed to make it home. She fell asleep in her clothes, but she noticed her make up was at least washed off and her shoes were at the side of her bed.

Looking on her nightstand, there was a bottle of water and some Motrin, which she wasted no time gulping down to relieve the pounding headache.

"Good morning!" Vincent burst into room, far too loud in her opinion. Upon entering, he immediately scrunched up his nose.

"Vic, you smell terrible."

She threw a pillow in his direction, that he unfortunately caught with ease as he walked closer to her. After another sniff, he held back a laugh and shook his head.

"Next time you drink, make sure I'm home. And drink water in between. It helps with the hangover."

"You're not mad?" She asked, managing to make herself sit up and make room for him to sit down as well.

"You're 18, and I'm your brother. Do you know how often you covered for me for our parents? The least I can let you do is have a few drinks now and then. But next time, in the safety of our home. You're hair has sand all in it. Trust me, those beach parties are not worth it. Too many creeps."

"Right," she nodded suspiciously. "I guess I should shower then."

"Please," he all but begged. "Are you feeling up for going to the fair tonight?"

"Yes!" She exclaimed excitedly, getting up from her bed. "I love the fair. No hang over is going to stop me."

"Glad to hear," he chuckled as he got up, patting her on the back. "I'll let you get ready. I'll make sure to have Anthony make an extra greasy breakfast, just for you."

After giving him a thumbs up, he left the room.

As she grabbed her clothes for the day, she tried to remember what the hell happened last night. Vincent mentioned creeps, was Jesse one of them? Deciding her phone might have some answers, she looked to see she had 72 unread text messages.

All from Jesse.

She didn't even bother to open them, seeing as the preview of the most recently sent one was as calling her a bitch, and immediately blocked him. She didn't have the time or the energy to deal with toxicity. Sighing, she walked out of her room and to the bathroom, desperate to wash the sand out of her hair and get rid of the alcohol smell.

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