My Plus One: The Devil

Woof Woof. I'm not a dog

A/N: First chap is more of an intro. I promise it will get more interesting later!

I groaned as I began to slowly wake up, a headache beginning to form as I escaped from the comforts of unconsciousness.

"Fuck"

I turned my head to see who swore. My best friend, Ashton, was sitting up and looking at her phone. To say she looked like a hot mess would be an understatement. Her makeup was smeared and not in the 'I had a hot make out session' type, but more of a 'A three year old put my makeup on blindfolded' brand of look.

"What's wrong?" I croaked out. Flinching when my head began to pound.

Ashton turned to me, a scowl on her face as she pushed her raven-black hair away from her eyes. "I slept through my job interview".

I closed my eyes and hummed in understanding. "I told you that we shouldn't have gone out when you still had that interview today".

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever mum." Ashton said as she flopped back onto the bed.

We were currently back at our apartment we've been sharing since we graduated University together. Both Ashton and I met our second year at University in a chemistry class, bonding over how shitty of a teacher our professor was. And since then we've stuck to one another.

Now we live together in a small apartment on the outskirts of New York. It's nothing impressive but it works for us. She is busy pursuing various acting jobs as I'm working as a vet tech for a lovely married couple who own their own local vet clinic.

Regarding our current states of hungoverness, we had gone clubbing last night and had drunk a tad too much. By a tad, I mean a shit ton. As soon as we entered the club, Ashton flirted with the bartender and got us a bottle of vodka from the counter. And from there we just started chugging. Not exactly classy, but effective.

I grimaced at the consequences that occurred later that night/ this morning.

I sighed.

Aren't we a couple of drunken morons.

I sat up on the bed and leaned against the headboard. Observing how I was only wearing my bra and panties. My dress was crumpled lifelessly next to the bed along with Ashton's top and short skirt.

I glanced back at Ashton who looked half dead next to me.

"You are a terrible influence."

"Urg. Don't pretend you didn't have fun" Ashton groaned back, "But Jesus Christ the hangovers are the absolute worst."

"I can tell you something even worse"

"What could possible by worse than being hungover?" Ashton replied, opening one eye to look at me. Her face mushed against her pillow, and her lips awkwardly jutting out.

"I mean.  You look like a decaying fish right now. So that's pretty bad" I managed a cheeky smile as I looked back at her.

"Olive."

"Yes my dearest?"

"You are an absolute bitch."

"Takes one to know one," I grinned as I slowly got out of the bed.

Ashton groaned in response. I chuckled but immediately regretted it as the pounding in my head increased. I shuffled my way out of the bedroom, not bothering to put on clothes as Ashton and I were the only ones who lived in the apartment. I went to our small kitchen and filled a couple of glasses with water before grabbing some painkillers and returning to the bedroom.