The Hardest Part of Today is a Hangover.

“You know, I think you should take today off,” Christian muttered from behind the bar, wiping down the counters.

I grunted from my seat on a barstool. “I don’t feel like going home.”

“Get Caity to come get you, then,” he mumbled, flipping the rag over. “Anna you look awful. I understand the whole drinking, drugs, partying thing, but this whole Oli thing…” he sighed,” It’s killing you, Anna. It really is. It’s killing both of you.”

I groaned. “Would you stop with all of this talk about him? I’m absolutely fine!”

“What is it about him that makes you act this way?” Christian asked, stopping the scrubbing and leaning closer to me. “Does he intimidate you? Do you know you love him and that makes you want to run away from him? Are you afraid of commitment?”

“No- I mean, yes. I mean…no? I don’t know!” I groaned, dropping my head onto the counter.

Christian didn’t say anything.

“I…can’t take him being gone like that, Christian. I can’t take him being there one day and then being gone for three months the next. I thought I could, but I just can’t…and then he comes back and- and- I don’t know. This is what he loves, though; I don’t want him to dislike it because I don’t like it. I don’t want him to quit because of me. I’d just be another obstacle and this…this whole thing is an obstacle for me. I can’t do it,” I whispered, sitting up and looking down at my fidgeting hands.

I felt so nervous saying that. I hadn’t even said it to myself yet.

Christian sighed. “So…this is like…separation anxiety or something? Like when a child goes away to camp for the summer and isn’t really sure about their parents when they go back, so they stay up in their room all day? That’s what this whole thing is?” he asked, obviously baffled.

I couldn’t blame him - I was, too.

So I just nodded my head meekly, sighing deeply.

“You’re hurting this man that loves you because you want him to do what he loves most and…and you can’t handle it? Do you know how selfish that is?” His voice had irritation laced through it, but I was too scared to actually look up and see it etched into his face. “I am friends with Oli, too, you know, and I hate seeing the both of you like this. The fact that all of this is because of some stupid reason just makes me fume. What the hell, Anna?”

I groaned. “Christian, please don’t be mad at me. I-”

He slammed the rag down. “I’m not mad, I’m disappointed, Anna. I thought you were smarter than this, you know. I thought you had a good head on your shoulders, but apparently not.”

“Christian, don’t fucking talk to me like I’m a child! I know what I’m fucking doing is wrong, okay? I just don’t know how to fix things! I don’t know how to tell him that I’m…sorry. I want to so bad. I want to go back and fix everything…” I muttered, looking down again.

“Really?” There was hope in his voice. Lots and lots of hope.

“Really,” I mimicked, looking up and giving him a weak smile. “I can’t do it on my own, though, Christian. I can’t…fathom what to say.”

“We’re closing! Everybody out!” Christian shouted, shooing all of the evening drunks out of the door and running into the back, throwing his rag onto the counter. He re-appeared two seconds later, a bright smile on his face, and grabbed my arm. “Come on,” he ordered, pulling me towards the front door.

My eyes darted towards the door. “W-Where are we going…?”

“Oli’s hotel room,” Christian said nonchalantly, locking the front door behind us and dragging me towards his car.

[-Oli-]

“Here we are,” I mumbled, throwing the door open and walking into the hotel room. “Make yourself at home.”

Tom followed me in, looking around, laughing. “You guys are such slobs…”

He had a point. There were open pizza boxes everywhere, boxers hanging from the TV antennas, one of the Matt’s stupid blow-up dolls they smack everybody with, and some girl’s underwear was hanging from the ceiling fan.

“It’s not that bad,” I mumbled, taking another step into the apartment…right into a pizza box. I groaned. “Fuck,” I cursed, slipping off my shoe and throwing it across the room, not entirely in the mood to deal with scraping pizza off of my shoe.

“Yeah. If you’re a New York rat,” Tom muttered, walking towards the couch. “Is this where I’m sleeping?” he asked, motioning towards the couch that was covered in pool towels.

“If you don’t want to sleep in the shower,” I laughed, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Yeah. I think I’ll sleep her-” he started, but was interrupted by a knock on the door.

I groaned. “What?!”

“It’s Christian. Open up, man,” he said from the other side of the door. I could hear the smile in his voice - he had that ability to be able to do that.

I walked over to the door and swung it open to come face-to-face with Christian…and Anna. I slammed the door, shocked.

“Who was it?” Tom asked from behind me, walking over to look through the peephole.

“The devil himself,” I mumbled, rubbing my face and groaning. I so wasn’t ready for another fight with her. My heart couldn’t take it.

“Open up, man! She wants to talk!” Christian shouted, banging on the door.

And my idiot brother opened it.

Please refresh my memory - why did I bring him here, again?