The Devil Of District 7

Chapter {5}

BAILEY

A ray of sunlight find its way to my eyes. I can feel it annoyingly trying to make me open them and get out of this wonderful state that is called 'being asleep'.

I groan and my eyelids open without my consent. I lift myself on the bed, my elbows supporting my weight and I take in the room I have spent the night in. Definitely not mine alright. The walls are an ugly shade of brown and the window to my right shows other buildings outside.

At least I stayed in the city this time.

I can tell that it isn't my district. Too fancy. The light actually comes from the side through the window and not from above my head.

That alone was a pretty good sign.

The bed I am currently laying in has fluffy pillows and a thick comforter, all of it is white and really comfy.

I get into a seated position, rub my tired - and surely red - eyes and focus on the other side of the small room. It is classy and neat but gosh, it looks like the painter has puked on the walls instead of painting them. That is surely not helping my hangover.

Despite the pounding of my head shattering my eardrums and skull, I detect movement from beside me. That makes me aware of the hand resting on my thigh, it is hot and sweaty. Pretty gross actually.

My host must've pulled some big moves last night to be this hot, or he has a perspiration problem. Could be either.

His head looks like it is being sucked my the pillow, making it impossible for me to see his face. The only thing I'll ever know about this guy is that he hadcurly blond hair and that he needed some exercise - don't ask. Memories from last night.

Well. Time to move.

I get up from the bed and feel a soft carpet under my feet. Perfect, the less noise I make the better.

My clothes are scattered all around the room and a pain in the butt to find. I actually got my panties from a shelf of the minibar and found my bra with vodka poured in the cups - what the hell happened last night?

I finally realize that my shelter of the night is a hotel room, a sickeningly ugly one. But hey, that's the hangover talking. Okay no, it really is ugly.

Anyway, once I am fully clothed - and stinking of vodka - I turn around and try one last time to take a peak at the sleeping man but it is no use.

Too bad, at least I know that he is around my age and he isn't not some creepy old dude. I haven't detected any wrinkles on his body.

I quickly make my way to the door and get out as quietly as I can with my phone, that I had thankfully not lost, in hand. I choose to take the stairs, because the elevator would worsen my headache - never knew why - and I arrive in a fancy lobby.

After persuading the receptionist that my partner of the night would gladly pay for the time spent in the room and suggesting them to get a new paint artist, I welcome the sun greeting me warmly outside past the door to the street.

The people walking on the pavement all look somewhat relaxed and some of them are sitting at tables of a café. The absence of the morning rush I was expecting makes me wonder how long I have actually slept.

I turn on my phone and check the time, it shows already noon. Half of my day has been wasted sleeping with some chubby guy I don't even know!

Dammit, I was hoping to catch Leo before his school day started. Leo is my best and basically only friend. Unlike me, he is still in school, trying to make his way to adulthood. You know, study, get a job and all that shit. His way of thinking is very different from mine but I love him to death.