Waking up with a groan Mason rolls out of bed, his stomach twisting in both pain and nausea. Clutching his middle, he stumbles from his room down the hall and into the bathroom, kneeling by the toilet. The remains of his late dinner splattering into bowl. His chest heaving with the bitter taste.
Gagging, Mason leans over the toilet bowl again, tears welling in his eyes as he heaves bile. The stomach acid burning his his nose and throat, making him cough and splutter.
"Mace?" Ben groggily walks into the bathroom, scratching his head.
"What are you- oh shit." Immediately Ben kneels beside Mason, rubbing his back and pushing back the stray hair that fell dangerously close to Mason's mouth.
"You okay man?" Ben nervously asks as Mason's puking slowly comes to a stand still.
Mason turns with a glare, face pasty white, "Does it look like I'm okay you dip-shit?" he manages to croak.
Pursing his lips, Ben stands from the floor and disappears from the bathroom, only to return moments later with a glass of water.
"Here." He passes the glass to Mason, who's still crumpled on the floor with his face pressed against the cool toilet seat.
Sitting up slightly, Mason takes the glass, thankful for the water to rinse his mouth out with. The pain was still there, gnawing on his gut, but the nausea was beginning to settle.
Spitting his mouth full of water into the toilet, he takes another sip, this time swallowing the water and letting it cool his throat.
"Dude, you should go to the doctors or something." Ben frowns as Mason moves to lean on the sink.
"I am. I'm going tomorrow at eight." Mason sighs.
"Why didn't you say anything?" Ben follows Mason to the kitchen, watching as his friend moves slowly down the hallway.
"Because it wasn't a big deal-"
"Wasn't a big deal! Mason, I just found you puking in the toilet at seven in the morning! And you look like shit!" Ben gestures to Mason's hunched over figure and pasty complexion.
"Gee, thanks." the glass is placed on the sink with a clink, and Mason unwinds his arm from around his mid-section.
"It's the truth."
"I'm fine. There's nothing to worry about. It's probably just the flu." he lies through his teeth, turning to face Ben with the straightest face he can muster.
"Well tomorrow when you come back you are going to tell me every little thing the doctor said is wrong with you okay? No hiding it. I need to know if you're dying or something." Ben points a finger at Mason, eyebrows raised.
Standing up straight, Mason heads back to his room, rolling his eyes as he passes Ben.
"Where you going?" Ben calls after him.
"I have work!" Mason shouts back from his doorway, before the slamming the door shut with a slam.
Knowing Ben, he would try to convince Mason that he was too sick for work, and force him to stay home, but not today. Mason was going to work whether Ben wanted him to or not. Plus, if he made it there, he might be able to discover what exactly happened that night at the party, and who he happened to go home with. The party was hosted by his co-worker's older brother, who also happened to be a good friend of both Mason and Ben.
Someone had to know what happened.
That night, Mason had decided to go to one of these 'famous' parties after Ben convinced him it was a good idea. Now we wished he had said no. Mason often found himself regretting his decision to get shit-faced at some party with Ben. Usually, the worst thing Mason managed to do was kiss a couple people and maybe bruise a few bones doing some stupid stunt. He'd managed to break his arm once.
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Consequences of a Party (1)
General FictionMason Fain always seems to get himself in trouble whenever alcohol is involved. He's the crazy drunk that jumps off of the neighbor's roof into the backyard pool. Always the partier, with his best-friend by his side. But he never thought about the c...
