Life's a Riot

Life’s A Riot Chapter 4.

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JC POV.

I moaned and rolled away from my pillow. The sudden movement sent throbbing pains through my head. I whimpered and pulled the duvet over my head. What the fuck happened last night? I was disturbed from my darkness by a cold, wet nose burrowing its way under my duvet and into my face. I rolled away, making my head throb more. My head ended up in the only crack of light that was coming through my curtains. Fucking typical. I couldn’t sleep because of the light and I didn’t want to roll out of it as movement made my head hurt. I felt the bed sink next to me. Curious, I cracked and eye open. Only to get a face full of tongue. Muttering, I used the duvet to wipe my face and turned to face the offending canine. Gin had evidently decided that it was time for me to get up. Most likely she was hungry. I’d have to show the guys what the dogs ate. I gave her ears an affectionate rub and steeled myself to get out of bed. Eventually I forced myself out of bed. Clutching my head against the stabbing pains that lanced through it with every movement, I staggered blindly towards the bathroom. I closed my eyes firmly against the light streaming in through the bathroom window and felt my way across to the cupboard, searching desperately for some Advil. Several curses later, I discovered that apparently I’d run out. Grumbling, I made my way to the kitchen. I needed coffee. Thankfully, the rich aroma of caffeine was already coming from the kitchen. I stumbled my way into the kitchen, collapsing in the first seat I found. I put my head in my arms and groaned. Voices around me chuckled. I lifted my head to glare at the room, but the throbbing pain made it more of a grimace. Jimmy, Zacky and my brother were all present and laughing. I went to speak, but whimpered again as the pain spiked and collapsed back onto the table. I stayed like that for a while until someone set something down next to my head. I moved my arm and opened one eye, trying not to move my head. A steaming mug of hopefully sugary coffee and a pot of Advil were sat on the table next to me. Momentarily, I forgot about my headache and shot upright. The pain made me groan again and clutch my temples. Slowly, I reached forward and pulled the mug and bottle towards me. I shook a couple of pills out and swallowed them with a gulp of coffee. Even those slight movements sent hammering pains through my head. I whinged again and fell back onto the table. Holy shit, what the fuck did I drink last night? I felt a poke in one side and opened one eye again, Johnny was staring at me in concern.

“What?” I croaked. He smiled.

“You’re alive then.” I snorted, then regretted it as the pain in my head flared again.

“No. I feel like the walking dead.” Sniggers came from what sounded like Jimmy’s direction.

“You look like it too.” He commented. Rather than move, I aimed a kick at his shin. “OUCH! Ok, comment taken back, despite the truthfulness.” He slid back, avoiding my second kick. Next to me, Johnny just shook his head.

“There’s toast in the toaster if you want something to eat.” I gave him a one eyed look. He shook his head again. “Stupid question. I’ll make you some toast.” I grunted at him and closed my eye again, debating whether the pain in my head was worth aggravating for coffee. Before I could decide, Johnny set a plate of toast on the table next to me. Moving my head as little as possible, I tore off a large chunk of bread and dunked it into my coffee before shoving the whole thing in my mouth. I sighed as I swallowed. I was a genius.

“That is disgusting.” Commented Zacky, no doubt pulling a face.

“But it works.” I replied, tearing off another piece of toast.

“She’s always done it Zack, she’s not going to change.” Explained Johnny. That was met with laughter, including my own.

“What were you drinking last night anyway?” Asked Jimmy. I frowned into my arms.

“I started off on wine. Then I think that I had a couple of beers. Then the drinking games started and it all gets a bit confused. I remember vodka shots. I think that Ash may have mixed Jaegermister in with a few of the vodka shots.” Someone snorted and spluttered. I lifted my head up, suddenly remembering something. “Sambuca! I remember Sambuca!” I slowly sank back into my original position, muttering ‘Ow’ as the pain in my head doubled. “And possibly Tequila?” I added, my arms making my words sound more mumbled than they were. The guys laughed.

“Your liver is going to get you back one day y’know.” Commented Zacky thoughtfully. I grunted at him and shoved another piece of coffee-soaked-toast into my mouth. When I swallowed, I braced myself for the question that had to be asked.

“So just how drunk was I?” Zacky was silent for a minute or so before replying.

“Well, put it this way. You were nice to Syn.” I opened both eyes in shock. Holy mother fucking shit in hell. I must have been trashed. But there seemed to something that Zacky wasn’t saying.

“And?”

“You started flirting with him.” Oh shit. But I could sense that there was more.

“And?” Zacky took a breath, steeling himself to reply.

“Youflashedhimtoo.” He replied all in one breath. I froze. I what? I groaned and tried to sink even further into the table. Fuck. A chuckle from the doorway instantly made me tense up and blush. Thankfully my hair was covering my face so no-one could see.

“Don’t worry Cait, you have an amazing rack.” I resisted the urge to growl at him.

“If it didn’t hurt so much to move my head, I’d be glaring at you right now. Feel the evils bitch, feel the evils.” I replied testily. “And don’t call me that!” He chuckled again and took a seat at the table. I ate more coffee-toast.

“How long has she been doing that?” Asked Syn.

“Pretty much her whole life?” Replied Johnny. “I don’t know.”

“It’s genius!” I groaned again.

“Fucking typical, the only person in this house who agrees with me is the one I fucking hate! Wonderful.”

~*~

About three hours later, I had finally got rid of my hangover and managed to crawl back upstairs to the bathroom. I sighed in pleasure as I stepped out of the shower. I understood why dogs shook after they’d had a bath, it just felt so damn good to be clean. I pulled on a black, baggy Slayer t-shirt and a pair of denim shorts before heading off to my room to attempt to sort the bird’s nest that was known as my hair. I lost track of the curses that flew out of my mouth as I dragged my hairbrush through it. Even washing it apparently hadn’t made much difference. Maybe I had overdone it with the hairspray last night. I was blow drying my hair as I ran the brush through it when the shadow fell over me. I glanced up to the open doorway, stopping my sing-a-long to The Sex Pistols. I scowled and turned back to my mirror once I realised who was there.

“What do you want Gates?” I snapped, still embarrassed over my drunken actions the night before. He chuckled and leant against the doorframe, as if he owned the place.

“Chill out Cait.” I could see his reflection in my full length mirror out of the corner of my eye. He was actually looking damn sexy today in a black sleeveless shirt and black, tight fitting jeans – not skinny jeans, but tight fitting enough that they looked fucking good on him. For fuck’s sake! This is fucking Synyster Gates you’re talking about JC! Pull it together. His voice snapped me out of my mental freak out. “I was wondering what it would take for me to get a repeat performance of last night?” He winked at me. I turned off my hairdryer and turned to stare at him in disbelief, preparing to yell my head off at him, when he burst out laughing. I glared at him and went back to taming my hair. Eventually he calmed down enough to talk again. “I actually wanted to make sure that you were ok after last night? You were pretty damn drunk when you came in.” I raised an inquiring eyebrow at him. Out of the two reasons, the first one seemed more likely to me. “Seriously Cait. You almost broke something in those ridiculous heels of yours.” I glanced at the corner, where my heels lay abandoned.

“I’m fine.” I ran the brush back through my hair once more before putting it down. I had to suck my pride down and actually thank him. As much as I hated to admit it, if it hadn’t been for his help last night, I probably would have ended up in hospital. “Thank you for helping me out last night. It was actually quite nice of you. You sure that you hadn’t been drinking yourself?” I quizzed, still curious as to his apparent niceness last night. He smirked at me cockily.

“Babe, if I had been drinking then you would have ended up doing more than flashing me.” He winked. I glared at him, trying to will him away with thought power alone. It didn’t work. I looked away and turned my attention back to my mirror. “You’re welcome anyway.” He loitered in my doorway for a while longer, as if debating something. I ignored him, I figured that if I ignored him for long enough, then he’d probably go away in the end. He did, eventually disappear. I frowned once he was gone, still trying to figure out why he’d helped me upstairs last night. I didn’t like any of the answers I came up with.