Sweet Dreams (An Inception Fanfiction) (on hold)

Chapter Two

      The next morning, I woke up feeling like I had been hit in the head with a tire iron...then run over by a bus...and then backed over five or six times. I moaned softly and clutched my stomach.

       "I hope that wasn't any indication of my performance last night." said an unfamiliar voice.

     I rolled over and got a good look at the person lying next to me. Suddenly, the memories from last night came flooding back to me, or at least a few of them. The club. The drinking. And leaving with what's-his-name, who was currently staring at me with amused interest.

      "No, I'm just a little hungover," I replied, "But, in all truthfulness, I can't remember a damn thing after we left the club last night."

      "Fair enough." he said, slightly crestfallen.

     I silently chastised myself, no man ever wants to hear that he is forgettable in bed. Even though I had no intentions of ever seeing him again, I didn't want to make him feel bad. I was about to apologize, but unfortunately, my stomach had a mind of it's own.

     "Where is the bathroom?" I asked weakly.

      "Down the hall and to the right."

     "Be right back," I muttered, stumbling out of the room.

     When I was finally done being sick, I washed my hands and brushed my teeth with my finger, desperate to get the taste of alcohol and cheap hot wings out of my mouth. I spat into the stink and stared at the mirror, recognizing the girl reflected in its cool, flat surface all too well. She appeared every time I got drunk, left with a stranger, and woke up in an unfamiliar bedroom without a clue of how I got there. She was sporting smeared mascara, messy sex hair, and dull vacant eyes, full of regret.

     Hello old friend. She seemed to say, Remember me? It's been a while, hasn't it?

     I shivered and splashed cold water on my face, trying to sober myself up.

     "Sorry about that, I was really drunk last night." I apologized feebly as I walked back into the bedroom. What's-his-name was already dressed, car keys in hand.

     "I figured as much," he shrugged, "Want me to give you a ride home?"

     Like a true gentleman, what's-his-name drove me home, opened the car door for me, and even let me change the station to whatever I wanted to listen to. I almost felt bad about giving him a fake phone number last night. Almost.

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     When I walked inside, the air smelled sweet and the pancake day playlist reverberated throughout the apartment, filling the room with a catchy pop song.

     "I'm so sorry guys, I completely forgot that I was supposed to make pancakes today." I said, feeling guilty.

     "It's okay," came Courtney's voice from behind the counter, "Getting laid is a perfectly acceptable excuse for not cooking us breakfast." She flipped a few pancakes onto a plate and placed it in front of me, making my stomach roll.

      "No thanks," I managed, turning away.

     "I sure as hell hope last night was worth it," came Hannah's voice from the couch, "You look like total shit."

      She was sprawled on her back, gazing up at me with glazed, bloodshot eyes. She looked so out of it, I was surprises she even noticed that I had entered the room.