Destined to Explode

“I think someone spiked my drink.” I laugh, swinging my arm back and forth, Alex having no choice but to let his as well, his hand only gripping mine tighter, “I've barely drunk anything and I feel beyond tipsy!”

“Or you're just a light-weight.” Matt laughs, he having joined us on this night out, tagging Kendra along with him seeing as she was the reason for his recent absenteeism, but everyone understood the need for them to be around each other away from everyone else while we were here, “We haven't even had Jäger yet! I rely on you to get as drunk as me so people don't go hating.”

For some reason his choice of words has me breaking out in song, my slightly out of tune voice screeching 'Don't go breaking my heart' by Elton John and Kiki Dee into the Los Angeles night, plenty of the rest of our large group joining in the sudden karaoke, Alex chuckling as he places a hand over my mouth to quieten me.

“What exactly have you drunk tonight, Poppy? Yo, did someone give her Vodka and Red Bull?” He turns to shout at the many people trailing along behind us.

“Guilty!” I think it's Lipshaw but I'm not sure, because it had in fact been Jack who had brought the concoction to the table when Alex had left to use the men's room.

“You're dealing with her hangover tomorrow then!”

I lose count of the amount of bars and clubs we skip in and out of the rest of the night, my brain only seeming to recall the beginning and end of the night, especially the latter because by that point, there was only a small gaggle of us left, doing shots in the hotel bar until it closed for a few hours, which is when we all crashed out, thankfully in our own rooms, minus Jack who camped back with Alex and myself, seeing as Zack had cut out of the night early with a bad stomach and we had yelled at Jack for even considering stumbling in at 5am.

It’s the when we wake up just after midday when I regret things.
I probably should have paced myself, but it had been a long while since I’d drank in general, never mind with the gang and whenever someone offered to go buy the next round I’d yell out a drink and gulp it down as quickly as I could manage.
The taste of the cocktails I’d started out the night with is heavy on my tongue as I roll over onto my stomach, Alex’s arm shifting and slipping back on top of the comforter and he groans as he blinks his eyes opens, looking straight at me before he buries his face back in his pillow.

“Hung-over?” He mutters, wiggling his legs, until they’re free of the tangled blankets.

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

My whole head feels like it’s been stomped on and I wonder if somewhere during the night I’d hit it repeatedly on a wall or something just as hard because this was not a normal, alcohol induced headache. That wasn’t enough punishment apparently, because I was pretty confident that if I moved too quickly, like I had when I’d flipped over, I would throw up and I’d slept funny too so now by whole body just seemed to ache.

“Poppy, are you gonna be sick? You look like a ghost.”

I blink my eyes open again to look at Alex, he leaning up on his elbow now and I shrug, “I’m not entirely sure right now, just don’t move the bed, at all.”

Jack makes his presence known from the other side of the room as he sprints towards the en-suite, Alex chuckling at he feigned attempt at shutting the door because it doesn’t click all the way closed and we can definitely hear him emptying his stomach into the toilet.

“I think this means we had a good night.” Alex smirks before the carefully gets out of the bed, wandering on over to his bag which is still pretty much packed over by the supplied closet, still in the majority of last nights clothes and after a few minutes of preparing myself I get up as well.

It’s when I’m tugging on a pair of sandals, readying myself to go up the roof and maybe swim a little, Alex mentions going down to get breakfast beforehand and something about Thursdays being ‘bacon day’ that I have to make a run for the bathroom myself, Jack having vacated it to lay face down on the carpeted floor.

The sentence ‘never drinking again’ comes to mind while I’m bent over the porcelain bowl, but I’d made that promise to know that by dinner rolled around, I’d be sipping on a beer.

----

It’s like we made an agreement as everyone slowly gathers on the roof, the day having turned out nice, especially after yesterdays down pour, and it’s both a good and bad thing.
Good because everyone had a reason to where the dark tinted glasses as they trail to a seat and collapse again, comparing headaches and bad because we were all in no state to sit in sweltering heat with our pounding headaches and unsettled stomachs.

Travis seems the only one not affected as he bounces up to join us, hands filled with Chinese takeaway boxes he’d gotten all for himself and plonks himself down on the end of Vinny’s sun chair, chatting away to anyone who’ll listen about how many times he almost dropped his food on the way back.
I’m sharing with a chair with Alex, leaning my back against his chest seeing as the wooden slats were harsh on my ridiculously aching body but my state doesn’t bother Travis as he eagerly pulls on my hand to go in the pool, my eyes not even opening as I repeatedly shake my head at his request.

“Who drained all the fun out of Zicarelli?!” He pouts, tilting his face forward until his sunglasses rest on the end of his nose and he can shoot looks at everyone lazing around.

“The six litres of alcohol she drank last night.” Alex mumbles, shifting beneath me until he’s comfortable again, one arm wrapping around my waist, fingers stroking along the lines of my new scar, “Did you mix drink with your painkillers?”

I groan, “I can’t even remember if I took any of my tablets to be honest, but it can’t make me feel much worse than I already do.”

“Stupid bitch.”

“Asshole.”

Travis is still stood above us, one eyebrow still raised as he waits for us to stop shooting mock insults at each other, “Is this how you two express your love for each other? Cursing each other out?” We both shrug and Alex lays a kiss to the top of my head as I squeeze his knee, “Oddest couple yet.”

“Cass and Rian are pretty weird too.”

“No, they’re not. Rian buys Cass flowers and Cass does - well, that’s for them to know, but still, they’re classic.”

“And you’re single, so shut up.” Vinny groans, kicking his leg out so in connects with his ribs, “Why aren’t you hung over? You got beat at every drinking game we did.”

“I have a hangover cure.” Travis grins, “Apparently more effective than everyone else’s.”

None of us see it coming, including Travis himself, but Zack, who hadn’t even drunk that much but still looks pretty rough, marches up to us, grabs a hold on Travis’ arm before he all put drags him to the pool side and pushes him in before calmly walking back over to his chair to sit back down.

“Guy needs to learn when to shut up.”