XOXO Love, Dodo (HYUNGWONHO)

Chapter 2: Accidents

October 28th - Saturday - 9:58

[papa bear 420 | 10/28 @ 9:58]: Are you ok?

[papa bear 420 | 10/28 @ 9:58]: Hoseok is everything ok?

[papa bear 420 | 10/28 @ 10:01]: What's the matter?

[papa bear 420 | 10/28 @ 10:01]: We have football practice Monday evening please don't be dead ok?

[lee HOEsuck | 10/28 @ 10:02]: Dude why are you texting me

[lee HOEsuck | 10/28 @ 10:02]: I'm literally on the floor beside you

[papa bear 420 | 10/28 @ 10:02]: I wasn't sure if you were up or not yet

"Wait, so what if I wasn't awake? Would you just keep spamming me with texts when I'm literally right here?" Still dressed in last night's costume, I toss and turn, rolling over gracelessly on the floor to glance up at Hyunwoo, who has is head hanging over the edge of his bed to eye me tiredly. His hair is a matter of infinite disarray. Curled up in my tawdry vampire cape and Hyunwoo's haggard middle school comforter - the one with the the pen stain on one corner, and monochrome print - I am bombarded with an astonishingly terse thrashing in my temples and rush of self-loathing swelling in my throat. I promised myself I would never attempt to outdrink Hyunwoo, not after the catastrophe last summer that was Minhyuk's Canada Day party at his cabin.

Then again, as much as it pains me to admit it, I'm somewhat of a weak man-child, and some promises are simply meant to be broken. That's what I tell myself, at least, when this unbearable headache is followed up by an excruciating pain in my gut and vomit rising in the base of my throat.

God, I shouldn't have done shots of Tequila.

Tequila does me the worst in the morning.

"Probably." His voice is raspy with an exhaustion typically only Minhyuk's parties induce. Hyunwoo hadn't drank as much as Minhyuk, Changkyun or I, but he had definitely consumed enough to produce the regret on his face as he rubs his eyes. "Your phone vibrates like an earthquake, so it would only be a matter of texts until it you finally wake up."

"What's so urgent that I need to be awake at ten on a Saturday?"

"I just wanted to know if you're okay."

"Okay, and?"

"Well, are you okay?" Unlike myself, Hyunwoo had taken the effort to change out of his Halloween costume before dozing off. By my feet is a folded t-shirt and sweatpants he had attempted to offer me. But, from what I can recall of last night's shenanigans, which is admittedly hazy but most definitely inexcusably belligerent the closer we arrived to home-time, which is a pleasant manner of saying "being forcibly dragged out by Hyunwoo", by the time we reached his house, I was already unconscious. All I remember from Hyunwoo's car to his room is stopping momentarily behind the grand oak tree on the front lawn to hack up a lung, and then again in the downstairs washroom.

My headache worsens as clouds split apart to reveal the sun, the light blinding, burning my eyes and exacerbating the drumming in my temples. "Well, I've definitely felt better."

"You've looked better."

"I feel disgusting."

"You look pretty disgusting." Replies Hyunwoo, and I reach up to grab his pillow from under his head and hurl it at him. The nerve. "I'm joking. Trust me, you don't look nearly as bad as I did by the time we left. Or Minhyuk."

"No one ever looks as bad as him after parties. He's a human dumpster fire more often than not."

"Are you good, though?"