Friends of mine.

Chapter Sixteen.

I'd say loud knocks on my door have been a way of waking me up at least once a week for the past month, and of course this morning is one of those mornings, a morning where I feel like complete and utter shit.
My natural instinct is to ignore these knocks and try get back to a peaceful sleep, and deal with the bullshit later, although these three knocks were harsh on the door.
I groan in annoyance, turning myself around, all the blood rushes from one side to the other, and I don't believe I'll be able to open my eyes, if I'm being completely honest... How the fuck am I alive?
Okay. Good, silence once again, maybe for once they actually took the hint, they never usually do, no matter who it is.
Yet exactly what I was expecting to happen happens.
Four, loud harsh knocks on my door.

"Please, go away..."

I groan, my voice is croaky and dry, I feel dehydrated and just... Wrong in general.
I open my eyes, I can already tell they're bloodshot, my eyesight is blurry and there are stars all around me.
I use my weak, shaky arms to lift myself up into a sitting position, trying to rub the tiredness out of my eyes, if only I could rub off this horrible hangover.
I look to my left, jumping slightly at the sight of another sleeping body, curled up on my floor, one singular pillow under their head.
Nick? Did I let him stay over? Fucking hell... What was even happening last night?
I watch him closely, just waiting to make sure...
Okay, thank god, he's breathing. Am I maybe a bit weird for checking for that? I don't think I am considering the way I feel means a lot of shit was happening yesterday, meaning I wouldn't be surprised.
I'd say I was surprised he didn't wake up from the knocks, but who am I kidding? It's Nick, he doesn't wake up from anything.
I look up to see a figure still standing at my door, I roll my eyes, letting out a yawn before I gently stand up, trying my best to not wake Nick.
I step over packs of cigs and beer bottles beneath me, fucking hell... Please tell me we didn't drink when we came home as well? I really need to do better at self control, Nick and I as a pair need to do better at it, I think when we're with each other we just turn into two twelve year olds. I can't help but find it funny, no matter how dangerous.
I quietly step over Nick, wincing my eyes before I finally make it over him.
Although as soon as I try take a second step, I gasp as I feel a hand grip around my wrist.
I turn around, seeing Nick's bright green eyes staring directly at me, not letting me go.

"Don't answer it, let's just go back to sleep."

I groan loudly, looking to Nick, his eyes half opened and lips chapped, his makeup is smudged and not as pretty as it was yesterday.

"It could be important."
I whisper, taking his hand off of mine.
He rolls his eyes dramatically at me, lying his head back down on the pillow.

"And it never is."
Nick mumbles, sighing deeply.

I mean he isn't wrong, I say it every time the door ever knocks, then it never is serious and I wish it had've listened to Nick, a sentence I don't like to say often.

"Fuckin' hell. Took you a while."

I rub my eyes once again, leaning against my door.
I look up and down at John standing at my doorway, his hair is in a mess and under his eyes are blue and purple, thank god I'm not the only one who looks fucked.

"Well I just fucking woke up."
I snap, moving to the side to let him in, I haven't got the effort to argue.

"Sadly you can't go back to sleep this time."
John sighs, raising a brow when he spots Nick lying on my floor, curled up sleeping like a kitten.

I feel like punching my wall over and over with his words, clearly there's something we have to do, somewhere we have to go, and I am aware after the last year of being a load of busyness of getting our album out and more things like that, but- it can be annoying.