Brightside

24 | call your mom

Eddie really needed to stop drinking.

Waking up to thousands of notifications from a post she didn't remember making was not her idea of a wonderful morning. Eddie crawled her way onto Instagram and cringed. What a photo. Dirty mirror, no clothes, and she'd decided to use a fox emoji to cover herself. The middle finger raised in the air standing naked in her messy bedroom really wasn't the statement she'd clearly thought it was the night before.

Eddie groaned and deleted the app from her phone entirely. Any direct messages were going to be ignored—she didn't need to read whatever anyone felt like saying. Too many texts sat unread and she knew she needed to get back to them. She felt sorry she was the one ignoring people when they should've been the ones ignoring her. Some had been sitting there for a week—like the one from Moxie who had done nothing wrong and was only trying to check in on her.

She threw her phone across the room in a stunning display of overreaction at the consequences of her own actions and put a lovely hole in the wall. The sound of the glass smashing was a little cherry on top of her shit cake. Something for her to fix later because she was not getting up from her pity party on the couch.

It didn't take long for Peter to come over and start licking her frustrated tears away—and in doing so, make her realize she was crying. If Eddie wasn't careful, she was going to put her fist through the wall next instead of her phone. Instead of trying to break her hand, she scratched behind her dog's ears. He sat down beside the couch and leaned his head against her chest. Even though he knew better than to lie on top of her—Axel was a terrible influence even in the short time he'd been a visitor of the house as he loved a mid-morning layabout where he rested his head on Eddie's chest—Peter slowly climbed up after not too long and laid on top of her. Head on her chest, eyes trying to figure out what was wrong.

"Oh, baby," Eddie said, leaning her head a little forward so she could kiss Peter's nose. "I'll be okay."

She was going to keep telling herself that until she believed it. At the very least, until her mild hangover passed.

A small knock sounded on her door. The sound of it unlocking and opening followed shortly after. "Eddie?"

Eddie frowned as Peter perked up. "Don't you have work or some shit?"

"I actually have the day off." August's voice was getting closer and Eddie wanted her to leave.

"And you didn't call me to come get a tattoo?"

"On the contrary," August said, "My day was paid for by a lovely musician who said he needs to bed rot because he misses his girlfriend and cancelled his day-long booking this morning."

"Was bed rot a direct quote?"

"Do you even know Mav?"

Eddie managed a small smile.

"Besides," August said, "it means I don't have to look at that disgusting moustache all day."

Eddie tilted her head a little. Thought about it. Fair enough.

"He needs to finish that album for the sake of Leigh. Maybe that's the real reason she had to head back to London." August walked around the couch. Looked at Eddie for a moment, hands on her hips. Her sister had this annoying habit of looking fantastic no matter what she was wearing. August was somehow rocking a pair of baggy sweatpants that Eddie was pretty sure belonged to Lockwood, a white tank top stained with vomit, mismatched socks in design and length, and hair tied in a ponytail too high for some of her shorter hairs at the back. Even staring down at Eddie like she was a child, she looked good. It made Eddie feel bad about every piece of clothing she'd ever put on. "No laugh?"