Drunk

One bottle of beer on the wall

The sound of my alarm clock blares through my bedroom, waking me up in the process.

"What the fuck is this?" I whisper as I dig my head deeper into the pillow.

"Shut the fuck up." I hear my roommate, Veronica, mumble from the floor. What the hell? What day is it? What happened? Why does my head feel like its falling off my shoulders?

"You got a little drunk last night and I use the term 'a little drunk' loosely. Let's just say we considered putting you in an alcoholic's anonymous group. I had to take care of you." She mumbles again.

Wait, did I say that out loud?

"Yes, fucktard. Now turn that bitch off. Why do you have it set anyway?"

Oh, god.

"I have work!" I yell, jumping out of bed.

Shouldn't have done that.

I immediately grab my head, sitting back down. This is one hell of a hangover.

"Ha. I don't have to go to work until 7." Veronica gloats, still lying down on the floor.

"That's because you are a stripper." I retort.

"I'm a candy gram!" She yells back, finally sitting up.

"What's the difference?" I ask, making my way to the bathroom.

"One is a pathetic, cheap way to make some money and causes you to lose your dignity. The other one you work on a pole." She informs me.

"Ahh, I see. But why did I get drunk last night?" I say, trying to turn the shower to turn on.

"You came home frustrated and said you needed a drunk so we took you out to a bar. You ended up crying in the bathroom about some guy named Sam Peters?"

Oh my.

Really? Sam?

"Oh really?" I laugh, nervously. I hadn't told Ronnie about him and I didn't plan to.

"Rory, who's Sam Peters?" She says, walking into the bathroom.

"He's nobody." I say, shrugging my shoulders.

The truth is Sam was a guy I met during my senior year of college. We went on a few dates here and there but nothing serious. Of course I wanted to continue but he didn't. It was nothing but I actually thought we had something special. I always do. To say the least, I was crushed. I thought I loved him for a little bit. Same old story.

"Aurora, I know you're lying."

"Don't call me that." I groan, still trying to turn the fucking shower on. I hate this thing.

Ronnie comes over, hits the wall, and turns the hot water on.

"We live in a dump." She mutters, looking at the water stained ceiling.

"Well maybe if you stayed in college and didn't drop out to go in tour with that stupid rocker dude, we would have a better place" I mumble back, her smacking my arm.

"Shut up. Anyways, so who is Sam Peters?" She asks, again. I groan. She isn't going to drop it. Might as well tell her.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"What do you mean laid off?!" I yell, standing from my seat, frantically looking at my boss. Well, ex-boss.

"We just can't afford you anymore." He smiles sadly, clasping his hands together.

"You're a bank." I snap, looking incredulously at him. He just laughs, motioning for me to walk out the door.

"It's been a pleasure having you and I hope you find work soon. But I do hear there's an opening at the McDonald's down the street" he smirks. And with that he slams the door.

I march out the building, making the make as much noise of possible. I stomp my feet on the marble, slam doors, and I think I pushed over a plant at one time.

By the time I make it to the apartment, my feet hurt and I just want to sleep.

That's not an option.

I open the door to find Ronnie with a boy doing some nasty stuff.

"OH MY GOD." I yell slamming the door again.

It turns out they didn't care that I just walked in them because I am forced to sit in the hall, listening to them finishing what they started.

As soon as the door opened, I hopped onto my feet. That didn't help my head.

With my hand pressed to my forehead, I watched the boy walk out of the apartment and down the hall. I just sigh and walk the open door, coming face to face with a messy Ronnie.

Her hair was a mess and she only had a t-shirt on. Her makeup was smudged so she looked like the joker.

"You are disgusting. And on our table?!" I yell, still slightly embarrassed. She shrugged as if I only caught her taking my shirt.

"It's fine. The table didn't break, did it?" She asks, leaning on it just to show me.

I mumble cuss words at her and make my way to the kitchen. I need comfort food or alcohol. And since we don't have any food alcohol will have to do. I grab a beer and turn around, sitting myself on the counter, it squeaky with the new weight pressured on it. I'm not that fat. Rude.

"Who was the dude anyway?" I ask as I poke my stomach. I mean I guess I could work out more.

"I don't know. He helped me carry groceries to my car." She states as she moves to sit on the counter next to me. It squeaks even more. Okay, Ronnie is a twig. It's not my weight. Just a shitty counter.

"Where are the groceries?" I ask, poking my thighs.

"I left them at the grocery store..." She realizes, shaking her head. She takes my hand away from poking myself and sets on the counter.

"Oh, nice." I say, rolling my eyes, setting down my beer. I probably shouldn't be drinking again.

"Oh and I got laid off today." I say, grabbing my beer again. Fuck it.

"Yea?" She says, grabbing my beer from me, taking a drink.

"Yea, so I wanna get drunk again. Like right now."

"You are a borderline alcoholic, I swear." She laughs, moving her hair off her shoulder.

"Yea? And you're a stripper." I say back, resting my head against the refrigerator, closing my eyes.

She laughs before saying "Rory and Ronnie, the dynamic duo."

"More like the drunken duo."

___________________

So hi, this is a new story and I'm sorry for its shittiness.

But thanks for reading it. I hope y'all enjoy it

xxxx Addison