Sun is up, I’m a mess…
The shit music from yesterday night isn't playing anymore, of that you're positive. No more electronic glissandos and bass lines that hammer at your heart like loan sharks banging on the door of some poor man's home. No more smell of hard booze and cheap perfume, all mixed in with the stench of sticky, sweaty bodies jumping to the beat; skin clinging onto skin.
Hard booze–maybe that's why your head hurt like a bitch, but you're in too much pain to think right now. You sit up quickly and your head hit something hard. Shit, that hurt! Now it feels like it's being split open; like someone's adjusted a rusty iron nail on your head and swung down hard with a hammer.
'God, how did I end up under a fucking piano?'
Gotta get up now, gotta run from this…
There's a flash of gold in the corner of your eye, and when you turn around your heart lurches from your chest and ends up in the middle of your throat. There's a stranger beside you, peacefully sleeping, golden-blond, incredibly attractive, and also completely naked. That's when you realise you are too.
'Aw, fuck!'
Here comes the shame, here comes the shame…
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