It took all the strength I had to get up. I sat down on the sofa. My head was spinning. Vomit was coming up again. I grabbed the bucket and threw up. Hard. I hoped no one was still in bed.
I got up, walked around, and looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was all tangled up and wet. I must have sweated like a motherfucker.
‘You’re up!’ Sara said while entering the room. She sounded loud. Not sure if she actually was.
‘Hey,’ I muttered, with a pasty mouth.
‘It sounded like you murdered a dinosaur just now.’
I wasn’t sure what time it was, but it looked like she had time to shower, do her hair and makeup and actually get dressed. I mean, who would wear jeans in the house? Voluntarily?
‘I must be catching a cold.’
‘Oh, please. Here,’ she said, while passing me a glass of effervescent orange stuff. Probably a Berocca.
‘Thanks,’ I murmured, while sipping it gently. Any wrong move and I’d be heaving again, this time in front of the angel that took care of me all night. ‘What happened? Why am I here?’
‘You were in no capacity to look after yourself last night,’ she explained, while sitting down next to me. ‘What happened?’
‘I think I had too much to drink.’
‘You always have too much to drink. Like, since I’ve known you.’
‘The first time we went out together you got me way too much to drink.’
‘I know, but it was always fun. Last night didn’t look like fun. Are you okay?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were on drugs.’
I had forgotten Sara had far more experience than I did. All throughout her teenage years she had smoked and snorted pretty much every substance in existence.
‘Of course not.’
‘Are you sure? Because this looks more like a comedown, rather than a hangover.’
‘Oh, my god, woman. I just mixed things and now feel like shit.’
‘Did you take your meds last night?’
Shit. I couldn’t even remember the last time I had taken them. A week? A month? It’s like I completely removed them from my daily routine, and now who knew how long it had been.
‘I don’t think so,’ I said, trying to be vague.
‘That’s really stupid. Take them as soon as you get home. There’s no telling how bad you’d feel if you stopped taking them all of a sudden. You don’t want to trigger another episode of hypomania where you max out all of your credit cards and get into crazy debt.’
‘This is a very aggressive awakening, just so you know.’
‘Be thankful I didn’t leave you there. You were insufferable,’ she said with a little smile, although I could tell she was being truthful.
‘Thanks.’
‘So where were you before you came to us? You never liked clubbing.’
‘I know. I suppose I was in a very good mood.’
‘Okay, I’ll stop pestering. I actually prepared you a bath.’
‘Oh!’
That sounded amazing. I didn’t deserve her.
‘Go in. And wash your hair please. I’m positive you have vomit in it.’
‘Fuck, what a catch.’
‘You’re obviously still very sexy,’ she said while getting up and giving me a small kiss on the forehead. ‘Yeah, please get into the tub as soon as possible.’
I did just that. I stumbled on my own steps and got into the bathroom. The mirror there revealed even more how disgusting I looked. I stripped naked and looked at my chest and back. I had scratches all over it. My arms and my legs were covered in bruises. Hopefully from the fall and not for getting beaten up by some bloke at the club.
Fucking hell, Leo.
I put a leg inside the bath, and it was scorching. Bubbles were thick and smelled like coconut. I put some relaxing music on my phone and slowly descended into the water.
My skin felt raw, abused. Everything hurt. Was this what drug addicts had to go through? I didn’t want another dose; I didn’t want to feel like this. I just wanted to be in my own bed and sleep.
I put my head underwater and looked up. What would happen if I just stayed like that? Never coming up for air. Would just stay there, still.
No.
Not today.
I got back up. I breathed.
‘When do we get to finish our evening, Mister Cotton?’
I couldn’t believe I had such a nice guy like Duncan still potentially interested in me. I was sure that if he knew more about me and my fucked-up life, he’d run away as far as possible.
I had completely forgotten I had to see Jimmy, as he was in London for the weekend. I was still feeling crap from the night before. Even after the bath. Even after the nap. I had to run home to get changed, as my brand spanking new shirt smelled like sewage and was essentially ruined, and my jeans were covered in questionable stains. I put on the first jumper I found and immediately changed into some comfy trousers. It was just Jimmy after all. He wouldn’t care. He’d just want my cock. He was already waiting for me at a French restaurant. I was late. That is what happens when you spend the night before acting like a twat.
I entered the restaurant. A gentleman with a waistcoat opened the door for me. It was one of those places that didn’t look particularly fancy, but the menu wouldn’t have anything below thirty quid. Luckily, I wasn’t paying.
Jimmy was sitting at a corner table. Having a cocktail from what I could see.
‘Sorry I’m late!’ I said.
‘No worries,’ he said while standing up.
I wasn’t sure what our dynamic was in terms of salutations. I went for a hug. I didn’t know whether a kiss would be appropriate. Thinking about it, I didn’t remember kissing him at all in Paris. It mainly happened in the genitals area.
A hug worked.
‘You look very nice,’ he said, while looking straight into my eyes.
‘Really? I feel awful.’
‘You’re always handsome. How are you? What have you been up to this weekend?’
As soon as he said the word weekend, a little gulp of vomit made its way up my throat.
‘Just had a few drinks with friends. Nothing major. How’s London been treating you?’
‘Yeah, not too bad. It’s cold, though. Colder than Germany.’
Germany. A little more vomit.
‘Oh, you know me. I am always hot.’
The waiter came to the table with a bottle of red. I wasn’t sure if I could stomach it.
‘I took the liberty to order beforehand. Is red alright?’
‘Yeah, sure.’
I looked at the wine being poured into my glass. Maybe I’d have a sip. Wouldn’t want to be rude.
‘We should go on a weekend away again,’ he said, while scouting the menu. ‘It’s been too long. I miss your nice cock.’
He did not whisper whatsoever. I was positive the table next to us had heard him. I looked around, but no sour faces.
‘Sorry, was that loud?’ He giggled.
‘A little, but yeah, I’d love to go away again.’
‘I was thinking Prague. Ever been to Prague?’
‘No, Prague sounds great. Same deal as last time?’ I asked.