Burning Out

11- revelations

Song- Teachers Pet by Melanie Martinez

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After driving a drunken Olly home at 4am, I got to bed so that I had just under 4 hours of sleep before I had to get up for work. The lack of sleep is going to start taking an effect on me soon if I'm not careful, especially with the mix of the jet lag that I haven't yet slept off.

I'm walking downstairs to meet Olly for a ride to work, tiredness hanging heavily over me as I clunk down the sleek stairs. I get the bottom and I'm greeted by Olly slouched back on the sofa, eyes shut and his shirted forearm resting along his forehead. I make the observation that he's probably experiencing a mix of  still being drunk and having a growing hangover which is just what a boss wants when they are going into work on a Thursday morning.

I can't believe it's only been 3 days since we moved to New York, so much has happened. It would be nice if everything calmed down for a while, but I'm not sure if I will be lucky enough to get my wish granted.

"Olly," I speak out loudly, immediately getting his attention so that his eyes fly open and look directly at me.

"What?" he groans, an irritated grimace sparking onto his face.

"You don't want to be late to work do you?" I say teasingly, taking his arms and heaving him off of the sofa.

He groans in a response and fishes his dominant hand in his pocket until he pulls out his keys, "Here, you drive I'm probably still under the influence."

I take his keys and drag him down to the lift and out into the carpark, even in his incompetent state he still has to open the doors for me.

"Maybe go a bit slower than last night?" he jokes before I press down on the accelerator.

I park the car in Olly's designated spot outside the office building and force him out of the car so that we are standing a few metres away from the entrance.

"Olly, you have to wake yourself up now." I state in seriousness, I can't imagine the row Leonardo would make about his boss being both drunk and hungover at work, he would look for anything to start a fight with Olly.

"Slap me," he commands gravely.

"I'm not going to slap you, Oll - "

"Do it."

I recline my hand back, about 3 foot from his face, and propel it forwards quickly before I have a chance to think about my actions. The immediate impact between my hand and the soft skin of his left cheek stings but I imagine it hurts him even more. His own hand flies to his face to cradle his reddening cheek, a pained grunt escaping his lips.

"Thanks," he mutters.

"Why did you just get me to do that?" I ask, looking down at my hand in disbelief that I actually just slapped my best friend.

"Now I'm awake," he states whilst shaking his head like he's suddenly just come to life.

"Great?" I say uncertainly before I'm being dragged along by my wrist and through the doors of the building.

I shake loose of Olly's grasp and walk freely next to him along the marble floors which are reflecting the noise of our every step. We get to the gate before the escalators and I look around in an attempt to see Stoke but can't locate him anywhere.

I turn to Olly, "Where's Stoke?"

"He fell ill last night so he's going to be off from work for a while," he says whilst scanning through the barrier and stepping onto the escalator.