The Struggle •Unedited•

Chapter 12

Buzz! Buzz! Buzz! Buzz! The sound of an annoying cellphone violently vibrating on my carpeted floor is heard. Within' seconds it stops and my eyes decide to pry themselves open. The light seeping through my blinded windows becomes a little too much for me and they immediately squint. What happened last night? I couldn't recall many things, yet I do remember coming home in a cab. Finally getting the courage to reopen my eyes, I'm faced facing the ceiling. My head is throbbing slightly in pain and I feel as if any slight movement will make it explode. Who took Kelsey h- Mason! Realization striking me hard that I left my son at Niall's house. My body shoots up and consequently, the entire room spins uncontrollably. The ache spreads down the back of my head causing me to grunt and fall straight back down.

"What the fuck?" I groan rubbing the sides of my head forcefully in order to stop the searing agony.

The mattress shifts beside me and all action stops. Who the fuck is beside me? With the pain calming down just a tad bit, at a leisurely pace, I turned my head to face my intruder. My shirtless upper body tensed as it realized it was the body of a woman. Holy fuck. Her black hair was sprawled over her face making it impossible to see her identity. Okay, calm down, Tomlinson. Maybe nothing happened. Are fucking kidding me? How insensible can you be? She's wearing your t-shirt and she's in her damn underwear! My pushy subconscious blurts out. Fucking shit. I take a deep breath. Okay, maybe Niall knows what happened. I'll just give him a call and he'll explain everything. He always does. Reaching a limp hand down towards the carpet, I reach over to grab a hold of my cellphone. I spend no time trying to get a hold of my best friend. About two rings are heard right before he answers the call.

"Tomlinson! You fucking asshole!" he booms through the phone causing me to grimace in pain, "Where the fuck are you?!"

"Stop. Stop yelling. Please," I plead quietly.

"Aha, drinking isn't so fun now is it, Mr. 10 beers, 6 shots, and 3 Jack and Coke's. Where the hell are you?"

This time his voice is normal. I completely ignore his gloating.

"I'm at home. Where's Mason? Please tell me he's okay and not covered in tattoos or something,"

"Home? How the hell-"

"Mason!" I hiss interrupting him, "Where is my son?"

"He's here, fuck. I told him you needed to go run a few errands. So you better get your hungover ass over here and explain everything to me,"

"Wait," I catch my floating thoughts for a second, "You have no idea what happened?"

"Fuck no. Do you realize how annoying it was to take your pissed off girlfriend-"

"She's not my girlfriend,"

"Fuck buddy, whatever the hell you wanna call her, home with Zayn's half drunk ass sucking face in the back with some chick? You owe me big time for covering for you and you sure as hell owe me a damn explination of your fucking where a bouts,"

Fuuuuuuuck. I stay quiet and rub my eyes aggrivated before slamming my arm down on my bare stomach.

"Mate....there's someone in my bed," I inform him mutely.

"Are you serious?"

"Dead serious,"

"Guy or girl?"

"Dumbass!" I snap, "Of course, it's a fucking girl!"

His smooth laughter is heard from the other line. This dick.

"So you slept with someone?"

"Well," my voice trails off, "I'm not sure,"

"What is she wearing?"