World Cup [larry stylinson a.u.]

7.0

THE HANGOVER

“Aaaaaaaaaahhhh,” I start yelling out of nowhere when I realize the tourist is the guy sleeping half naked next to me.

“What the actual heck?” he turns around with a huge frown on his face.

“Aaaaaaah,” I continue yelling.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah,” he yells higher. What the hell?

“What are you yelling for?” I jump out of the bed, taking the sheets with me to cover my exposed body.

“I don’t know. You are the one who started it,” he tries to cover his lower half with a pillow.

“Yeah because you are naked in my bed. What is this? Care to explain?”

“Are you kidding me?” he loses his temper.

“You probably raped me while I was asleep. What did you do to me?” I’m as disgusted as I have ever been, “I can’t believe you. How dare you doing this to me? Did you put something on my drink?” I keep talking leaving no space for him to answer.

“No. I’m the one who can’t believe you. Asshole!” he laughs ironically.

“What did you do to me?” I check on my body to see if everything is okay.

“Nothing, you moron! I saved you,” he sits on the bed, “You were a mess last night and I found you.”

“What?”

“What you just heard,” he rolls his eyes, “I didn’t even touch you.”

“Then why are you naked?” I shoot back, obviously not buying his theory. He is gayer than Mickey Mouse. Of course he touched me.

“Because you puked all over me. I wasn’t going to sleep like that.”

I frown because I’m confused and I need to sit down because the earth is spinning faster than ever.

“I ran into Ed when I left a bar. He told me you tried to touch him at a guy club. Did you seriously take a straight dude to a gay club? What are you?”

“What? What happened to Ed?”

“I don’t fucking know,” he lies on the bed.

“Can you leave my bed already?”

“Shut up,” he yells, “You should be thanking me.”

“What for?”

“He said you tried to touch him so he punched you. Look at your eye.”

“My eye?” I freak out and run to the nearest mirror. There’s a huge purple bruise on m left eye, “No, no, my face. What did you do to me?”

“It wasn’t me, asshole,” he laughs, “Ed punched you because you tried to touch him. He told me that so I asked where I could find you and he gave me the name of the club you were in. Bubu? Seriously?”

“What do you care?”

“So I went there and found you right outside, sitting in the middle of the street. You didn’t even know your name and you kept asking where the ginger was.”

I stay in silence because I kind of remember some of that.

“I called a cab and did my best to get the name of your hotel. You were a complete mess,” he keeps explaining, “So we came here. I put some ice on your stupid eye and then BAM! You puke on me.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have entered my room.”

“Douche,” he insults me, “I helped you. Then you stripped your clothes off,” my mouth drops open, “By yourself,” he adds.