Manage Me

The first thing that I was aware of in the morning was a ridiculous amount of pain residing in my skull. Light rained through the windows and I groaned. I rolled over, attempting to bury my head under the blankets to block out the sun. Instead I found myself dumped on the floor. I moaned in pain, clutching my head. For some reason, I wasn’t in my bed but I couldn’t remember much from last night after I left the bar. I realized there was something wet on the carpet underneath me and desperately prayed it wasn’t piss or puke. I looked around and discovered the source of the liquid to be a half drank beer can. Figures.

Slowly, I stood up, clutching my head. It seemed that I had passed out in the living room last night which explained why I was so sore. That couch was a piece of shit. The more I assessed the room, the more I realized that something was off. I couldn’t place my finger on it, but something about the house was different. It irked me, but I didn’t actually care enough to figure out what was different. I stumbled into the kitchen, opening the fridge. After all, they said that the best cure for a hangover was alcohol. A loud rapping at the door stopped me from taking my first drink, and I scowled. The knocking got louder and my head started pounding even more. I ripped the door open.

“What?!”

The girl standing in the doorway jumped a little, a look of shook apparent on her face. It was then that I realized it was the maid Alex had hired. I had completely forgotten about her. So that was why the house had looked different this morning.

“Hello, Mr. Barakat.” She said softly, looking down.

“Hey…” I trailed off, realizing she had never told me her name. “I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

“Katie.” She stated simply, blushing deeply.

“Right. Well. Why are you here so early?”

I sounded like a dick, but in my defense, my head felt like it was going to explode. I didn’t want to deal with this shit right now. I just wanted to go upstairs and pass out in my bed for another few hours before hitting up a club and finding some slut to bring home for the night.

“It’s noon, Mr. Barakat.”

I glanced at the clock on the wall. Huh. She was right.

“Would you like me to come back later?”

Yes I fucking did want her to come back later. But that meant there was a chance she would still be here when I got back like she been last night. And I was just now remembering what a disaster that had been.

“No, whatever. I’m just going to be upstairs.”

I knew I was being an asshole but I didn’t really give a shit. This hangover was officially at the point where I just wanted sleep. I left the door open and stalked upstairs. Fucking Alex. Fucking maid. I slammed my door shut, flopping down on the bed. I was out before my head hit the pillow.