Play No More (Player Next Door sequel) ✓

55 | My helicopter license

Happy Diwali! 

@akiimarvelous made these really fun character posters which you can check out on my Instagram @NatalieInACorner! Love the Dubai edition :) 

Chapter 55: My helicopter license 

Oh, the headache.

The regret.

The desire to forget.

I rolled over to my side and reached out for my phone with eyes closed. Momentarily blinded by the screen light, I typed to Jake my new song lyrics: Oh the headache, the regret, the desire to forget.

I then lay on my back and groaned. I regret so much about last night. I've made a complete fool of myself and I don't even remember what happened after Luke and I left the club. He didn't look happy.

Heartbreak through expectations. That's probably another song line.

The regret took a darker turn when I thought about my mother. Did I turn to drinking yesterday to forget? Isn't that what she does? I spend so much of my life disappointed in her and now I was on track to follow....

Ow, my head.

My phone buzzed. It was a text from Jake: Rough night?

How does he know? The guitar playing psychic... But then I remembered I had just texted him.

I replied: The roughest

I added the pumpkin emoji for extra effect.

After a minute, Jake replied: Lyrics aren't bad btw

That's the closest to endorsement I've ever gotten from him. Maybe he'll give me credit as co-songwriter. Between my lyrics on bananas, berries and hangovers, I think we've got a hit.

I heard sounds downstairs. The house must be awake by now, but how could I face them?

I checked my phone again in case I missed any messages from Luke. Zero.

**

~Downstairs~

The distorted sounds I heard upstairs rearranged into coherent words as I neared the living room. Chad was watching an action movie and his surround sound system amplified the effects. I saw his brown hair over the top of the couch, as he lay across it, watching the screen.

Oma was at an oval glass table, eating a chive and mushroom omelet. She was in a blue kaftan with bracelets on her wrist. I looked around to see if anyone else was nearby and spotted Bianca sunbathing in the pool area outside.

"Do you want painkillers?" Oma asked me.

"I'm ok, thanks. Food might be a good start," I said, though I wasn't convinced of it myself.

My stomach was still moving like jiggling jello.

But for the sake of having something to do, I walked to the kitchen. I used both hands to open the giant fridge and was blinded by the light inside. This hangover isn't going easy on me.

I pulled out my sunglasses and put them on. Then I braved the fridge once more and stared at the overwhelming amount of fresh produce. They were all chopped, washed or diced neatly into clear containers in the fridge.

I can't believe I thought Luke's fridge was fully stocked. Luke's fridge was to Chad's fridge what my fridge was to Luke's....

Ow, my head again.

"Good afternoon," a stately voice greeted me from behind.

I turned around and found myself staring at Mr Roland Chadwick the II himself. The myth himself. He's been an illusive and dignified figure so far. Now he was here: tall, in a suit and his moustache was perfectly coiffed. He wore a tie that matched the pocket square in his jacket lapel.