This, is Touri Cowell.

Touri, the one who gets high in her Lambo.

I Have a problem. I have a serious. Problem... I'm still high, I remember last night probably around one or so, I ditched Erika I went to “The bad side of town” to find some more of that weed. I did, and I got the good stuff too. I went home, and I locked myself in my car. Just me and the weed. When I'm high I like to watch the time. The bright blue lights of the digital numbers on the dash board read 5:30 now. I turned up the music on my Kid Cudi CD,

“Prisute of happiness and I know, everything that shine ain't always gonna be gold.” I rolled up another wad of that green stuff in paper and lit it, stuffing it in my mouth. All of it. The pain, the nagging, the worries.... It was gone. All of it. Now I felt I was floating, almost like I was watching myself from below. I watched the tiny purple fairies dance on my dash in front of me. I coughed, I knew what I was seeing wasn't real. I coughed again and ashed my blunt on the center console. I leaned back in my chair and stared up at the sun roof. My phone had been dinging constantly. Ding! Ding! Ding! God, it was so demanding. I slapped my hand down onto the bag of Sour Cream and Onion chips and shoved some more in my mouth. There was nothing to think about, nothing to cry about. I was... Numb.... I shoved the chips into my mouth. One by one. Suddenly there was a pound on my window. I squinted at the figure staring down sternly. Who... Liam. He was motioning for me to roll the window down. I shook my head pretending I didn't know what he was doing. He rolled his eyes and then began dialing something on his phone. He held it up to his ear and began talking in a stern tone to somebody and within seconds Harry, Louis, and Zayn were now pounding on my window. This is a sextuplet number Lamborghini they need to stop. I turned up my stereo system loud and rolled down my window. All four of them stumbled away fanning their hands in front of them and coughing. They were shouting something at me but I didn't hear them, the music was too loud. Finally Louis leaned over and shut the speakers off and sighed with relief. I coughed and squinted at them,

“Now, what were you saying.”

“Look at how GLOSSY her fucking eyes are!” Louis exclaimed. Their voices were muffled, everything was muffled, everything but my voice. So that's why Kid Cudi did that to his sounds. Liam was staring down at me, obviously angry,

“What are you doing.”

I looked around me,

“I uhh... Well... I'm sitting, and I'm eating chips. That's two things.” I held the bag out to him, “Want some.”

“Touri... You need to go inside.” Zayn suggested.

“But...” I tried to protest but I couldn't think of anything.

“Common, I'll make you some breakfast.” Harry said before pulling the door open. Louis and Zayn held out guiding hand which I took to help support my numb body. I leaned on both of them giggling a little as I stumbled on the cement. They pulled me up the stairs as Liam chewed me out, something like,

“Lindsey's going to kill you if any of the Paps saw you.”

Zayn opened the door for me to throw myself into my flat. I staggered to my couch as I pulled my black and silver leopard print pencil dress over my head. I exposed my red bra and my matching underwear that read in black “Let's party” I stumbled to my room to find a shirt that I had collected from the many guys I had slept with. The black and white plaid flannel. I buttoned it up and went to the kitchen and squinted at Harry cooking over my stove. Liam was talking, quite fast, on the phone with someone, probably Ashley. Louis was gone, probably next door with the boys and Zayn was on the couch sleeping. I looked over at Harry again,

“Harry, Harry, Bo-Barry Bananarry Bo-Barry.” I sang in a slow voice to him as I crept behind him and slung my arms around him trapping his arms.

“Okay... Okay...” he patted my arms, “Touri... Your pancake's going to burn.”

Instantly I let go, I don't want to burn my pancakes. I stood there watching him pour the yellowy-white liquid onto a black pan. I stared intently at it, taking in the bubbles and the unique colors. I stood there with my hands on my side and drifted back and fourth, just a little. When Harry gave me my pancakes I didn't bother with my syrup so I stumbled to my black leather recliner. I nibbled on the cake, taking in the drowsiness and finally I fell asleep with the cake in my mouth. Touri, Touri, The one who sleeps with pancakes and gets high in her Lamborghini. That should be a song.