𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧' 𝐆𝐮𝐲 ➺ 𝐵𝓇𝒾𝒶𝓃 𝑀𝒶𝓎 & 𝒬𝓊𝑒𝑒𝓃

36. Bromance and Romance

Freddie

The aftermath of a wild night of drinking and partying was an absolute nightmare. The dreaded clean-up awaited me, along with the task of tending to hangovers, even though I had one myself. It was a painful ordeal, my dear friends, one that I cannot emphasise enough.

Resigned to my fate, I trudged down the stairs in my dressing gown, cinching tightly around me in preparation for the arduous work ahead. Foolishly, a glimmer of hope flickered within me, wishing that someone had taken the initiative to tidy up. But let's be realistic, darling, who in their right mind would do such a thing? I woke up at eight in the morning, and trust me, nobody else would have a clue where to put anything. Or if they did, it would undoubtedly end up in the wrong place. You'd think Roger believed that 'under the sofa' was Japanese for 'bin.'

Before diving into the chores, it was only appropriate to kick-start the day with a cup of tea. Well, more like a bucket of tea, if I'm being honest. I was parched, alright? But then again, when am I not?

To my surprise, the kitchen wasn't its usual deserted self. Instead, the sole inhabitant was Emma, leaning against the window and downing a glass of water. Startled, my hand instinctively flew to my chest, trying to steady my racing heartbeat. "Emma, my dear, you're as quiet as a mouse." Or perhaps as sly as a snake.

"Am I?" She replied after gulping down the last of her water, a mischievous smirk playing on her lips. Setting the glass in the sink, she quipped, "I've never been accused of being quiet before." I rolled my eyes, sauntering past her towards the kettle. "Oh, come now, Fred, you say things like that all the time."

Chuckling, I filled the kettle with water, placing it on the stove. "I do believe you're mistaken, my dear." I carried on with my usual routine, acting as though she wasn't even there, fetching the milk, preparing aspirins, and whatnot. "I reserve those jokes for Roger, not for you, my dear." Pouring the boiling water into a cup, I promptly dunked a teabag, adding a splash of milk and a sprinkling of sugar to achieve tea perfection. Emma remained by the sink, arms crossed, clearly not pleased with my response. "Don't be like that, Em. Skedaddle back upstairs now. I have a mess to clean, and I'm sure Roggie is missing your charming company."

Positioning myself purposely at the doorway, I sipped on my tea as she begrudgingly followed my order. Well, she tried to follow it, but I was in her way. She looked at me with a puzzled expression—thank goodness I was only slightly taller than her, otherwise, she would have been petrified. "Just one more thing," I began. "You may call me Freddie. Only my friends have the privilege of calling me Fred."

Unable to contain my smug satisfaction, I smirked to myself as she scurried past me, letting out an exasperated scoff and stumbling slightly. I walked into the living room with a sense of pride, catching a glimpse of her stomping up the stairs. I cringed at the noise, fervently hoping she wouldn't awaken the entire house. I wanted to bask in my witty triumph a little while longer.

Oh, how I loathed that girl.

Maria

I was abruptly awaked by the resounding slam of a door upstairs. Reluctantly, I tried to open my eyes, but the mere act of squinting caused a jolt of pain to shoot through my head. I silently prayed that I could drift back to sleep, cocooned in the warmth of the bed. After all, I was far too comfortable to face the day just yet. Besides, my body ached from head to toe, a new sensation that I had never experienced before. I knew that soreness could be a consequence of heavy drinking, but it was a novelty to me. Hence, I was unsure of the best remedy. Unfortunately, luck was not on my side. The moment my eyes caught a glimpse of even the faintest light, my brain insisted that it was time to rise and shine.