Hangover

Chapter One - Part 1

Monday morning. Urgh.

Stiles practically crawled his way out of bed, since he had some trouble standing up. But, with the worst headache of all times, he couldn't just lay in bed even if he wanted. He needed some aspirin, or else he would die in pain.

Never was he EVER going to drink on a Saturday again, simply to never be forced to face this kind of situations on a monday morning... Wait, didn't I say that, like, last week?

Stiles decided to just stop thinking about it. Mostly because thinking in general just hurt too much.

Stiles made it to the bathroom. Now everything, literally, every single part of his 147 pounds, pale skinned body hurt. Including his ass. Which meant that, either, he'd been sitting on a weird pile of pointy sticks or some shit for hours, OR, he'd been having some serious gay butt sex. Probably the second one. Though he hoped not.

He barely remember a thing from the night before... or the day before that ... actually, the whole weekend was just a big blur to him. But, it was over now so... fuck it.

Stiles took a look at himself in the mirror. Horrifying...

He had black makeup - probably his eye liner - all around his eyes, cheeks and... some pink text on his forehead that he couldn't make a single letter out of. His hair was a mix of black and green, which was odd since he remembered it being more of a blue-ish. All of his piercings were still in place, thank God.

But... something was wrong. He felt like he was missing a really important detail, but he just couldn't figure out what.

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Stiles, after a whole lot of pills, plus a whole lot of water, deodorant and perfume -because he didn't have time to shower or even switch clothes, just add a red hoodie - managed to remove the horrible makeup and pink shit from ever existing on his face, and drive to school. He knew he shouldn't be driving, but he also knew he was an excellent driver, a little alcohol couldn't do much damage. Not to his driving anyway.

Stiles parked his Jeep in the school parking lot, spotting Scott on his motorcycle not far away. He got out and they met halfway. Stiles watched his up and down. He looked like shit. Probably better than

"Hey Scottie... You look-" he began, but Scott finished for him.

"Like shit, yeah I know. You don't look so good yourself." He said. Stiles sighed.

"Yeah, well, who gives a fuck..."

"Amen to that..." Scott said with the tiniest smirk of all times, and padded Stiles on the back as they walked towards the school entrance.

They both walked through the hallway, opened up their lockers, looking at their schedule. Chemistry...

Stiles didn't give a tiny rats ass about chemistry, even tho having Lydia's mom as a teacher was way better than their previous, professor Harris.

Stiles looked over to Scott, and frowned when he saw the amount of sweat almost dribbling off his forehead. He looked... stressed. Almost like he was about to have a nervous breakdown.

"Scott, are you okay?" He asked, concern in his voice.

"Uh, yeah... Yes, I'm fine. It's just, umm..." Scott paused while closing his locked. "What do you remember from yesterday? Or from this whole weekend, really?"

"Uhh, not much. Like, at all. You?"

"Well... I remember small parts, like, being at Lydia's place." Scott began.

"Yeah, yeah I remember that."

"Then, uh... do you remember hanging out with Parrish?"

"What!? No!" Stiles suddenly burst out, a few people giving his a glare or two, that he ignored. "Did we hang out with a damn deputy? Are you sure?"

Scott "Eh, well..." He looked like he really wanted to say something, something important, pressing his lips together to keep it away. "Look, can we talk more about this at lunch? We've got chemistry now..." Scott began to walk away, nodding for Stiles come along.

"Right... Chemistry..." he said with a deep sigh, and followed his brother.