Lucid (Kaylor)

i.

Her hands travelled down her waist, her fingertips pressed to her skin. She could taste the alcohol on her breath, smell the memory of the shampoo she must've used that morning lingering on her soft hair.

"Take it easy love," she murmured, her lips touching her ear, "how much have you had to drink?"

A smile played across her lips, taunting the shorter girl. Her hands continued to slide lower down her back, her mouth moving over her collarbone.

"Enough to know that I can handle myself, thank you very much," the words slipped out of her mouth effortlessly, her eyes rolling into the back of her head precariously as she leaned against her thigh.

"Are you sure about that, darling?"

Taylor awakes covered in sweat, skin stuck to the white sheets she had so carefully washed only a day ago. Her head aches with hangover, her mouth dry with lost memories of the previous night.

Rolling over, she is faced with the back of a tall slender girl.

"Karlie," she whispers, her voice raspy with sleep, her tongue like sandpaper against the roof of her mouth. "Wake up."

The taller girl groans, stretching out her legs so that her feet hang over the wooden frame of the bed.

" 'M up," she mumbles, her head pressed into her pillow.

Giving her friend another slight nudge, Taylor peels the covers off her sweat soaked skin. Her eyes are cloudy and she realizes she hadn't bothered to take out her contacts before going to sleep.

"Shit," she curses herself, grumbling sleepily as her bare feet hit the hardwood floors. She stumbles over a pile of dirty clothes and trips into the bathroom.

Facing the mirror, her skin crawls a little at what she saw.

Her mascara has slowly traveled down her cheeks, giving her the appearance of a slightly more put together raccoon. Her eyes are glowing red, no doubt a result of her own irresponsibility. She pops each contact out carelessly, tossing them into the garbage. Pawing around the sink aimlessly, she feels around the marble countertop until she reaches her glasses.

Rubbing her itchy eyes, she hears Karlie's footsteps getting closer and turns to survey the appearance of the model.

Her ashy blonde hair is piled into a reckless heap on the top of her head, almost resembling a bun if you really used your imagination. Her eyes are bloodshot and watery, her usually tan skin pale and glistening.

"You look like shit," Taylor says, turning back to the sink to brush her teeth. Her mouth tastes like vomit and she is sure that if she doesn't fix that in the next thirty seconds she will lose whatever's currently in her rolling stomach.

"Please," Karlie groans, sitting down on the rim of the bathtub. "You look like you haven't slept in weeks."

Taylor laughs, spitting toothpaste into the sink, allowing the water from the faucet to wash it down the drain.

"What the fuck did we do last night?" The blonde singer is now facing her best friend, eyebrows raised accusingly. As much as she'd like to, she can't remember a thing from the previous night.

"You don't want to know," Karlie hiccups, her face paling a little. "I feel like shit."

"You better not throw up, because I am so not in the mood to clean up vomit."

Taylor begins to rinse her face with warm water, determined to get the thin layer of sweat and alcohol off of her face as quickly as possible. Halfway through, she stops, head bent towards the sink, water still running in a steady stream.