American Suithearts

Part 1

Gina:

The feel of the sheets. The softness of the bed. The musky smell tickled my nose. Waking up under the covers of a bed that was foreign to me. Shaking. Pure white sheets told me I was in a hotel. I laid on my stomach. My head throbbed. That's the last time I go drinking with coworkers, I thought to myself. Peeking out, under the covers I spotted clothing. Tank top, bra, sweater, tights, skirt, and vans. Not just my clothes. Someone else's. A sweater. Jeans, a T-shirt, and a hat. Black slip-on sneakers. Judging by the style. I guessed male. Oh my God! Did I sleep with a stranger? , I gasped. A snore came from the side next to me. Confirming my suspension. I sat up. Looking down, I noticed I wasn't wearing anything, but my gray and pink panties. My cheeks felt warm. Using the sheet to cover my chest, I lean over to see who was next to me. Before I could reach the pillow covering his face. His phone went off. Leaning back as his head popped up. Our eyes met. "Oh fuck..." we cursed. Both of us fell out of bed on opposite ends. Standing on opposite sides of the room, I covered myself with my sweater as he covered himself with a pillow. My eyes were wide when I saw a blurry outline of the lead singer of my favorite band. Standing in front of me. In his underwear.

"Holy smokes...um...you okay?" Patrick Stump asked. At that moment, I forgot what words are. I stood there awkwardly hugging myself. "How...um...who...?" Patrick stumbled over his words. I shrugged. Reaching for my glasses. I slide them on to see, his face was as red as mine. Over his right eye was a bruise. A little blackish purple. He inched over to his nightstand and grabbed his glasses. Patrick waved nervously. "My name is...Gi...Gina..." I looked at the floor, "Ginamarie. You can call me Gina or G." Left-arm over my chest. Right arm over my stomach. I did this what I felt ashamed of my body. Even though I have my sweater covering me. I noticed Patrick doing the same. With a pillow. "Ginamarie...I've never heard that before. How did you get here?" He spoke softly.

"I don't remember...I woke up here."

"This isn't good."

I shook my head. "Do you remember anything?" I asked. He shook his head, "Other than drinking." "And getting a punch in the face," I added. Patrick looked up. "What?" He turns a little towards the mirror next to him. "How?" he touched the corner of his eye. "Do you remember the bar we went to?" I asked, "maybe a bartender would know." Patrick winced as he poked at his wound. Ignoring my idea. "Hey. Stop touching it. You need to clean that and apply ice." I rolled my eyes. Snatching his shirt off the floor and threw it at him. He dropped the pillow and caught his shirt. Then grabbed mine and turned around. Pulling it on over my head. I went into the bathroom, grabbed a cup of water and two washcloths. Next, I ran back into the room, setting them on the table. Then I dashed over to my messenger bag. Rummaging through it. I found my first aid kit. Patrick sat down. Glance over at me. "Are you a nurse?" he pondered. "No, just someone who knows simple first aid," I took the ice bucket out of the freezer. Patrick smiled a little. "Anything in there for a hangover?" he joked. "No, but a banana will help. I watch Scrubs and House M.D. and while I'm just a fan. Somethings are true," I told him. I leaned in. "I was on an episode of House. That was fun... You know who I am, don't you?" Patrick asked as I cleaned his bruise. I didn't answer. He reached up and held my wrist. Glaring at each other. Was he waiting for me to go complete fangirl? , I thought to myself.

"You're not answering."

"Yea, You're Patrick..."

"Shit."

He let go of my wrist. Allowing me to finish cleaning his wound. I applied some anti-bacterial and wrapped ice on the second washcloth for him to use as an ice pack. "Look, if you are expecting me to be a complete fangirl, I'm doing my best not to. I believe in respecting the artist. Any other worries you have, fall under my beliefs as well. I promise," I said gently. "So... you listen to Fall Out Boy?" He asked trying to start conversion.