Flushed (Troyler AU)

Chapter 14

Troye's POV

I patted around my cold bed, my slender fingers grasping the silk sheets as I frantically searched for my phone. After a minute I gave up, retracting my hand and placing it underneath my heated chest in an attempt to warm my trembling fingers.

Why was it so cold anyways?

I snuggled deeper into the duvet, thick with feathers, and slid down so that my feet hung over the edge of the bed frame. The contrast of temperature had me peeling my glued eyes apart. I allowed my eye sight to adjust, glancing around my empty room. My bed-the only piece of furniture-stood flushed against the cream coloured walls, along with the few hangers scattered around the room and dangling from every door handle, adorned by mostly black clothes. When had I become so depressing? The room was bland and bare since I only moved in days before my world tour started, exactly six months ago.

I grunted with disapproval, closing my eyes once more. Only then had I felt the pounding in my head, the imaginary hammer sending harsh blows straight to my temples. I lifted my legs up in a swift motion, cradling them against my chest when I felt the cold gust of wind ghosting in between the four walls.

I was forced the look up from my position, my squinting eyes landing on the opened balcony door. The white curtains flapped in time with the wind causing a swooshing sound to echo as the outside air slithered towards me. I flinched, reminded of the ache in my brain. I brought my hand up to my hair, patting it lightly, careful to avoid adding to the unpleasant feeling.

I knew the dull pain wasn't going to subside unless I swallowed some meds. As I stood up my vision blurred, dimming for a moment. The room spun under me and the walls convulsed, as an aberrant wave of shock ran through me.

Was the ground below my bare feet gyrating or were my senses betraying me?

I shook my head with caution, allowing the faded light to return to my eyes. My room came back into focus and I trudged to the kitchen, my feet dragging on the floor as if a magnet restricted them from lifting up.

I took my time sipping on the bitter coffee, tasting the scorching liquid on my tongue, before taking a long swig. I sighed heavily as I tried to avert my consciousness to my current surroundings. My mind felt like it was trapped in another dimension, my thoughts distant and detached from reality. Yet the cold metal of the bar stool reminded me that I was still there physically.

The ticking of the clock vibrated loudly against my ear drum, stealing my attention away from my jumbled thoughts. My mug seemed further away from my reach than it actually was, the entire room suddenly growing in size. Its white walls engulfed me in the emptiness, the vast space seeming more like a tight shoebox as the seconds ticked by. The hour handle moved at a glacial pace, almost standing perfectly still before my eyes. The movement though, manifested a strident din that etched itself into my mind, forcefully. I couldn't hear my own thoughts over the loud noise causing me to shake my head vigorously as I struggled to regain my composure. Only then, had I realized that it wasn't the clock, but in reality my ceaseless headache.

How long had it been since I took the pain killers?

My thoughts were still cloudy, a somber fog continuing to diffuse around the barricades the alcohol set up. Apathy and insouciance, the two emotions I indulged in last night, now reappeared to bite me in the ass. I had no recollection of anything that went down a few hours ago, my mind completely blank as I rummaged through it for a single memory. I guessed the addictive liquor had done its job right and a tight smile splayed on my lips. Although not with my best intentions, the hangover didn't seem too bad. I was freed of worries and the constant pressure of perfection I carried with me everywhere, like bricks tied on chains to my feet.