Nayarit || james

.tres.

.tres. 

With some level of difficulty, he managed to stumble into the lobby. He tried not to draw any attention to himself, but his head was throbbing and his eyes took a while to adjust to the dimmer light in the hotel. Some people happened to recognize him and started snapping pictures, which did nothing to concern him in that moment. He wanted nothing more than to get to his suite and hide under the covers until he could kill his hangover.

Minutes later he made it to his room and laid down on his bed, drifting off to sleep like he had done the first day he arrived in Nayarit. 

He didn't get to sleep long--merely a few hours--because his friends had been calling him on the phone. None of them had seen him since he separated from them at the party. When they got no answer, they had gone as far as calling hotel security to have his suite opened. James was startled awake then by his friends who were relieved to see him.

"What are you guys doing here?" He asked them groggily.

Stephan and Edwin were there. Behind them was Juan, still accompanied by the owner's daughter. All of them wore worried expressions on their faces. "We didn't know where you were, hermano. Donde te metiste?" Where have you been? Edwin began to scold his team mate, which was ironic considering that he was the youngest of the four at only twenty three years of age. "We were this close to calling the police." He informed James, who still was too tired to even register Edwin's words in his head.

"He's so hung over he doesn't even know what's happening." Juan commented in amusement.

"I know exactly what is happening." James countered in annoyance. The moment the words left his mouth he knew he should have just agreed with them instead, so that they could go away and leave him to sleep for the rest of the day.

But there was no way that was going to happen now.

Edwin opened parted his lips to speak up, hands on his hips like he was about to verbally kill someone. The target? James. Before he could get any words out, James brought his hands up to cover his face. "What kind of universe did I fall into that has twenty three year old kids yelling at twenty four year old men?"

Stefan scoffed from the door of the hotel suite. "He's only one year younger than you, bro."

"As punishment you have to get up right now and go down to the beach with us." Edwin informed his team mate from the Colombia national football team. As he yanked the sheets of James body--with his clothes still dampened with sea water--Edwin added, "My wife and kids want to go kayaking today and we need someone to babysit the baby. You're the lucky volunteer, so get in the shower and be down in the lobby in one hour."

Truthfully, James didn't actually mind it all that much. He had taken care of Salome hundreds of times on his own, and she was just a bit younger than Edwin's son. His only complaint was that he thought it was much too early for kayaking, and it was also much too early to take care of children when he was sporting a killer hangover. 

-

His friends had left him in his suite moments after making sure he was okay and not disappeared somewhere on the beach after the previous night's party. It took him several moments to finally push himself off his bed and get in the shower. He purposefully twisted the knob for ice cold water. His body was hot from all that time on the beach and the fluctuation after he had slept for so long. He also knew that cold showers were ideal for getting rid of hangovers.

Once he was freshly showered, he dressed in light clothes, a pair of swim trunks and a tank top with palm tree patterns on it. Then he left his room and headed down to the lobby where everyone was waiting for him.