Misinformation

Chapter One

Balthazar's P.o.V.
"Shit, I left my wallet at the table," I curse to myself at the crowded karaoke bar, Sigh Not Sing. "Can you hold my drink while I get it?" I ask the impatient bartender, who glared at me in return.
"No worries, I got it," an unfamiliar voice says behind me, handing the bartender a 5 dollar bill.
"O-oh, no, that's okay," I say, turning around to see who the nice stranger was. Hopefully it wasn't some old guy trying to hit on me. A guy with fluffy brown hair and a blue button up smiled down at me.

Wow, he's cute, I think to myself.

"Um, you're hot, and that's called flirting," he laughs. "The name's Peter Donaldson,"
"Stanley Balthazar Jones," I say, holding out my hand, "You can call me Balthazar though".

You've probably figured out already figured out by now that I am gay, single, and kind of desperate. He grabs my hand and pulls me out onto the dance floor, and my wallet was forgotten.

"I'm not really one for dancing, I was just here for the karaoke," I admit, bobbing up and down to the loud music pounding through the bar.
"Ridiculous, everyone is one for dancing, drunk enough. We'll have to get you another drink," Peter responds, snapping his fingers at a waiter walking past us, strolling around for tips.

Huh, he's even cuter when he's demanding.

I break from my thoughts with fingers snapping in my face.

"Are you listening? I said you should sing a song. I want to here this alleged singing voice you have. Obviously you're good, or you wouldn't have come here."
"Fine, I'll sing.." I said, stretching out the N, and thought, "Oh, I can sing Lay and Love by Bonnie 'Prince' Billy?"
"No that's to slow and sad. Sing something upbeat."
"What about Hopeless Wanderer by Mumford and Sons?"
"Good enough! Now go!" Peter laughs, ushering me towards the stage,"Skip to the fast part though!"

I told the bored looking woman next to the stage the song I'm singing. She sighed and found it on the machine. I picked up the microphone and shakily walked to the front of the stage. I spotted Peter in the crowd of dancers, looking up at me and waving. The music started and closed my eyes. I started to sing, but the rest of the song was a blur, me being absorbed in my singing.

"You heard my voice, I came out of the woods by choice.....the skies I'm under," I finished the song an the whole club was on its feet, granted they already were standing, but I think they enjoyed it, judging by the whistling and clapping. I hopped off the stage and Peter was waiting for me, lightly clapping with a bright smile on his face.

"That was really good," he said "I really underestimated your talents."
"Thanks. That was really fun."
"You looked really hot up there," Peter said, pretending to swoon.
"Why, thank you," I joked. We stared at each other for a second too long and after Peter having one too many drinks and dancing, we were making out. Of course the alcohol made Peter very impulsive and hazy, but the feeling of his lips on mine was addicting.

Peter's P.o.V.
I slowly opened up my eyes, and rubbed them. I noticed the pounding headache throbbing in my head, and winced. I pushed myself up as slowly, and started observing my surroundings. On the nightstand next to me, my phone sat. I was in my clothes, but looking around, I realized that this wasn't my bed. Or my room. I started panicking, trying to feel if I was hurt anywhere. I was moving around too much and immediately felt nauseous. I looked around and threw my head over the side of the bed, puking into a bucket someone placed there. While I was wiping my mouth with my hand, the door on the wall in front of me opened and someone walked in to the room with a cup of coffee and a cup of water.
"Good morning," he said, with an adorable smile. He was pretty cute, too bad my memory was more fuzz then common sense. Then it all hit me like a bullet to the head. I groaned, my headache hurting, but I remembered the person in front of me. Stanley Balthazar Jones.
"Good morning," I replied, accepting the drinks. I downed the water in a second, then started sipping on the coffee.

"I still have all my clothes on, so I'm guessing that we didn't...." I trailed off, growing uncomfortable.

Balthazar nodded, growing red, "Yeah, we didn't, we made out and then you almost passed out in the club, so I drove you to my apartment where you slept in my bed for 10 hours," Balthazar explained, chuckling at the last remark.
"Thanks, that was nice of you," I reply. "Most guys will just leave me in a random taxi and bolt."
"Well those boys don't deserve you, though I don't know a lot about you," he charms.
"I would love to get to know you, but I have to leave," I say, writing my phone number on a notepad sitting on the nightstand, "Text me,"

I grabbed my shoes and rushed out the door of the room. Not bothering to look around the apartment, the hallway I walked down lead me directly to the door leading outside.

That was a different experience

Balthazar. He was sweet, but I'm not cut out for that kind of guy. I don't know why, but I was hesitant with him. I'm just glad nothing went too far last night. I head out into the street with no clue where I was. I looked at the street sign nearby and realize I'm close to my friend, Benedick Hobb's, apartment. He lives with his girlfriend Beatrice Duke. I start walking to their apartment building and when I got up to their apartment door and ring the doorbell and Margaret Winters, another one of my friends, opens the door. I look past her and there seems to be a reunion between all my high school friends going on, without me.

A/N - Hi guys! This is my first story in Wattpad, so I hope you like it.
Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy!