WTTT Stuff

Didn't Ask, I'll Still Do It: Part Two

FASHION, PUT IT ALL ON ME! DON'T YOU WANNA SEE-

Nevada grabbed his phone. Why was his phone on full volume? It was hurting his fucking ears. He turned it on, the light blinding him. Nevada turned his phone away from his face, waiting for his eyes to adjust just enough so he wasn't blinded by the light.

He could barely see correctly, his vision still hazy from sleep. However, he could see that someone was calling him. He groaned, but answered. Before he could even say hello, Kentucky's voice slammed into his ear.

"Vada, Jersey wants us at his house in five." Kentucky said.

"Did he say why?" Nevada slurred. He felt like his heart was pounding in his head instead of his chest. There was a pause on the other side of the line.

"Nevada, did you drink?" Kentucky inquired.

"Yes." Nevada answered, honestly. There was no point in lying. Kentucky already knew. He heard him sigh on the other side of the line.

"At five in the morning." Kentucky deadpanned, "It's eight in New Jersey."

"Well, I actually drank at two and then, I fell asleep. Now, I have this killer hangover." Nevada replied.

"Didn't I tell you to stop drinking?" Kentucky said.

"Jersey's not off heroin! Why should I get off alcohol?!" Nevada snapped. There was silence.

"Just get your ass over here." Kentucky answered before hanging up. Fuck, he pissed him off. Both him and Jersey were getting a talking to. Maybe he shouldn't have said that. He sighed, placing his phone and staring at his ceiling for a few seconds.

He sighed again before rolling out of bed, landing on his floor with a loud thud. Now, his head and body both hurt. He stumbled over to the bathroom where the painkillers were kept. He felt his stomach churning.

He leaned against the doorframe and buried his head into his hands, swallowing a mouthful of vomit as he waited for a wave of nausea to pass over him. He was thankful that the medicine cabinet was right next to the door. He swung it open and dug through it.

Not finding any painkillers, he slammed the cabinet door shut and stumbled back over to his room. He grabbed the first shirt and pants he saw and put them on. He threw his old shirt and jeans on his floor before deciding it was better to place them in his dirty clothes basket.

They were both covered in puke. Next, he decided to get some food. Maybe that would help his stomach. He nearly fell down the stairs trying to get downstairs. He sighed and rubbed his eyes as he leaned against the entrance of the staircase.

"Here." A few pieces of bread were shoved in front of him. In a flash, he grabbed the bread and started to eat them.

"Dad, you really need to stop drinking so much. Even Vegas has stopped much of her drinking." Carson City sighed, closing the bag of bread in his hands. Nevada looked at his son, stopping his eating as well. He blinked at him before continuing to eat the bread again. Carson just shook his head.

"You going somewhere?" Carson asked, placing the bag of bread on the kitchen counter.

"Yeah. I'm going to New Jersey's house. He needs me there." Nevada answered in between bites of his food.

"No way you're teleporting there. You could end up in the wrong place." Carson said, placing a glass of water and a painkiller on the dining table, "Here, take this."

Nevada glared at Carson while he swallowed the pill. Carson cocked an eyebrow, "What? You usually take too many pills and accidentally give yourself an overdose. Anyway, come here. I'll take you."