SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL, J.HUGHES

FIFTY TWO

MORGAN'S POV

I wake up with this enormous headache, the kind that makes it feel like my skull is splitting open. The first thing I notice is the trash bin next to me—classy. My back is killing me too, which makes sense when I realize I slept on the couch.

I glance around, trying to get my bearings, and I see Gab walking aroung the kitchen. She doesn't notice me so I cough, and that seems to do the trick—her eyes flutter, and she looks at me, concern written all over her face.

She walks up to me slowly, rubbing her eyes. "Hey, how are you feeling?"  her voice is still groggy.

"Like crap," I admit, pressing my fingers against my temples, trying to ease the pounding in my head. "What happened last night?"

Gab sighs and shifts closer, her hand resting on my arm. "You don't remember? You had a lot to drink at the game. Jack was worried, but you insisted on leaving early, so I brought you back here. You passed out pretty quick after that."

I close my eyes, trying to piece together the fragments of last night. The game, the drinks, the way I felt like I just needed to escape—it's all a blur. "Did I...did I do anything stupid?" I ask hesitantly, afraid of the answer.

"No, nothing too crazy," Gab reassures me, but there's something in her voice that makes me feel uneasy. "You were just...really out of it. We were all worried about you."

Guilt starts to creep in, mixing with the headache and the vague nausea still lingering. "I'm sorry," I mutter, feeling the sting of shame. "I didn't mean to ruin the night for everyone."

Gab shakes her head quickly. "You didn't ruin anything. We're just concerned. Jack especially."

Her mention of Jack makes my chest tighten. I can only imagine how he must've felt, seeing me like that. I force myself to sit up, the room spinning slightly as I do. "Where is he?"

"He went to the gym early," Gab says, giving me a reassuring smile. "He wanted to give you some space."

Space. That's what I need right now. Or maybe what Jack needs. I don't even know anymore. All I know is that I messed up, big time. I can't stop replaying last night in my head—the way I drank too much, how I must've embarrassed myself. I'm not even sure why I decided to drink that much, but in the moment, it just felt right. Everything was so festive, everyone was celebrating because the team was winning, and I... I got caught up in it all.

But now, in the harsh light of day, it just feels wrong. I feel horrible. I feel like I let Jack down, and that's the worst part. He's always there for me, steady and strong, and what do I do? I go and get wasted, like I don't even care. But I do care. I care so much it's suffocating me.

And now I'm stuck here, feeling like the worst person in the world, trying to figure out how to make it right. I've got to apologize, explain, do something to fix this mess I've made. But I don't even know where to start. I just want to go back in time, to that moment before I had the first drink, and do everything differently.

Luke is the next to emerge from his room, still looking half-asleep but managing a smile as he walks over to Gab. They exchange a quick kiss, one of those casual, comfortable ones that couples do without thinking. Then his eyes shift to me, and I can already sense the teasing coming.

"Good morning, Momo. Bet you slept well," he says, grinning as he leans against the kitchen counter, clearly amused by my current state.

Momo...it's been a long time I haven't heard of this nickname.