Fixed {Reece Bibby}

Chapter 4- Reece

I was right, the vodka was not a good idea but hey, I'm just an English idiot. Not that I like Greenday or anything...Blake passed out after that second bottle. Luckily for me it was on the floor. Not my bed. Lying here now staring up at the ceiling, his soft snores are almost comforting- but very annoying. Bored out of my mind I text George- our other bandmate. He went to this party last night so he's probably got his head in a toilet somewhere. And they call our generation the future?
It takes me by surprise when he replies straight away, asking where I am. Deciding to call him I sit up and grab some water. Okay, that wasn't water. Don't they say the cure for a hangover is to continue drinking?
"Reece?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you okay? Blake was texting me last night saying that you were completely out of it. Wanna talk?"

I laugh out loud at what he just said, George can be such a sap. Kicking the lump on the floor I smile when I hear Blake groan, followed by a "fück you".

"Aha yeah mate, I don't think you can trust what he was saying. What about you how was the party?"

"It was alright, there was this really peng girl there that followed me around a bit- i didn't mind, if you get what I mean." I could hear the cockiness in his voice- I don't know why but it made me feel píssed. Before I realised I snapped at him:
"Well, at least I was here. With Blake."
Remorse instantly filled me. Man I'm a dîck.
"Sorry bro, Just come over for practice."

When he hung up I wasn't sure if I'd pushed him too far- we all have a lot going on- more than most teenage boys and sometimes we do need to get away from the responsibilities of the spotlight. With I sigh get up and walk to the bathroom, catching my reflection in the mirror. Eww.

Not to be blunt but I do look crap. My eyes are bloodshot and my bags under are prominent. My grey trackies are twisted around my ankles- getting wrapped up in my socks. Stripping off and flipping off the mirror I jump in the shower.

*****

The smell hits me before I see it, Blake covered in his own vomit on my floor.

"FOR FÜCKS SAKE"

Knowing that this is just foreboding my day I yank his arm and pull him into the bathroom, my towel nearly unwrapping in the process. With too much effort I shove him on the floor of the shower and run the cold. I have to admit, the look on his face when the water hit him did perk me up a tad.

Now that Blake's in the shower, I get to clean up the puke. Thank god I don't have carpet. Kneeling on the floor with some detol and a sponge makes me question what the hell is going on. George comes through the door as I let out a strangled sound- it's supposed to sound angry.

"Need some help?"

"No shít."

When he picks up the sponge I get up to get dressed, slinging on some black jeans and a tshirt.  I grab a clean towel and enter the bathroom with a now standing and now naked Blake having a shower. Cursing I throw the towel at him and flush the chain of the toilet, listening to him gasp in his now- very hot shower. Knowing I need to get out of this mood I walk out the bathroom, yell a thanks at George, walk out my room and call an über.