Sleepless Nights

Chapter One: Rude Mornings

When my eyes opened, I already knew I wasn't anywhere I recognized.

From what I could tell while laying down, the room's interior consisted of really bright colors, mainly white. The wide windows made the room almost glow in the most irritable way because of this, and I shielded my face with the back of my hand in an attempt to hide from it. I groaned, my head throbbing with each beat of my heart. I couldn't remember the last time I had a hangover this bad. I did recall it never being a fun experience, which was a given.

What happened last night? I questioned myself. More importantly, where am I?

I reared up my elbows on the bed I was apparently laying in, examining my surroundings with hazy eyes. It looked like I was in a hotel room of some kind, judging by how empty of personal belongings it was. However, I didn't remember checking into one. What point would I have to come to one when my apartment wasn't even a couple miles away?

How did I get here?

A few knocks on the door startled me and I ducked down under the covers again. "Room service!" A voice said from behind the frame. "Did you call?"

"Yeah, I'll be there in a second."

That voice!

I heard the door creak open, and I stole a peek from under the fluffy comforter to spot a tall black haired gentleman accept a silver tray from a nicely dressed bellhop. He thanked the boy and passed him a few dollars just before closing the door, leaving the two of us alone. We made eye contact from where I was hiding, and a sudden rush of words and pictures hit me so hard I was left disoriented.

Reporters... Tigers... Water... Handsome surgeons and cranky actors... Alcohol... Prize...

"Freaking hell..." I grumbled, pulling the blanket back over my face. I can't believe myself. How could I have let this happen? I am so dead when I get back to the office. I'll be surprised if I have a job after this.

Sudden weight lowered the mattress down by my legs, but I didn't have to look to know who it was. "Want one?" a slightly muffled voice asked, and I finally decided to toss aside the sheets. Mr. Hirose was sitting with a sandwich in his hand, his other offering the platter. With glaring eyes, I shook my head.

"Not hungry," I muttered, pushing away my tousled hair, rubbing my temples.

"How about some coffee at least? You look like hell."

"I feel like it."

"Is that a yes then?"

Without waiting for a proper answer he headed to the small kitchenette in the corner of the room after setting lunch back on the tray. As the scent of brewing coffee filled the air, I took the moment alone to check myself over in the bathroom. The cocktail dress was still hugging my figure snugly, no signs of it being removed apparent. Good, at least I knew my dignity was still secured. The towel from last night was on a table, and I picked it up to wrap around my bare shoulders as Mr. Hirose came back.

"Here." He sat back on the bed and passed one of the mugs to me.

"Thank you very much..." I said politely, sipping the hot drink to hopefully wake my mind up a little bit. Neither of us really tried to make small talk, so I concentrated on recollecting my memory of last night. I couldn't remember much, which either meant nothing happened or... it was anything worth keeping tabs on. The thoughts filling my mind sent uncomfortable chills down my exposed back, and I shivered without thinking.

"What are you so jittery about?" Ryoichi Hirose asked, a smirk hidden behind his cup. "Could this be your first time?"

Wait, what? "Huh?"