Tomorrow Brings Something New
3.
A dark shape blurred in and out of his vision, making Tig jump, startled and reach for his gun. He didn't quite get there when there was a wave of agony pass from his sensitive brain and through to his stomach. He mumbled 'oh fuck' before leaning over and puking all over the grass area. He started thinking about why the fuck he was even near grass. As he did this he remembered the dark shapes and reached for his gun.
'Woah, easy there, easy boy. Just seeing if you're okay man. you are okay, right?' It was just some just over teenage boy who thought he should interrupt Tiggy's sleep. Now he was awake he had a pounding headache and nausea. Fucking asshole. Trying to help, my ass he's trying to fucking help was all Tig was thinking 'Of course I'm fucking alright, Fuck off,' The boy stumbled away, leaving Tig to his own devices.
Tig groaned, rubbing his face before flopping back onto the red surface, banging his already tender head in the process. 'Ah Fuck.' He yelped out loud before giving up on going back to sleep as he originally planned. He jumped to his feet, running his hand through his hair. He sort of remembered the way back but didn't remember it taking so goddamn long to get there. He decided to go grab his bike, then drive to his small apartment and sort his shit out before facing the guys.
They'll probably have questions, it's already at least 1pm, and Tig hadn't checked up on any of them. Hopefully they'll believe the bullshit he'll feed them. Probably that he picked up some pretty disposable whore. At that thought he remembered the swing set girl. He put his hands to his face as he remembered what had happened. Not much really, except that was probably the longest he had spent with a girl who was, to his knowledge, single and not an old lady and not fucking them. He didn't just 'hang out' with girls like that.
He put all of this out of his mind when he reached the bar he left his bike at, it was right where he left it so he hopped on, not bothering about the helmet, it'll just aggravate his hangover headache pulsing in his brain. As he raced to his small apartment that he seemed to be spending more and more time at, he cleared all thoughts of the swing set girl and thought about the club.
He stepped off of his bike and grabbed his keys to his front door, he walked past a group of teenagers on his walk there, and glared at them, they squealed and fled from him. He wasn't really in a nasty mood but he had a hangover and that generally made him cranky enough, on top of the mysterious girl and the shit with the club.
As he opened his door, he shoved all of the shit blocking the door out of the way and made his way to the coffee maker, turning it on before making the short walk through to the bathroom. Inside the bathroom was only a small shower, a grungy toilet and a sink; never used as the taps don't work. He turned on the shower and checked there was hot water. He was in luck, usually at this point there was not warm water and he had to face a freezing shower. He left it running a few seconds to let the temperature mellow out, whilst stripping off his clothes, slinging them on the floor.
When he was in the shower, he turned up the heat, he liked to shower in scalding water, to really wash it all away. He lathered up his hair in shampoo and thought about the swing set girl again, trying to recall her features, He remembered she had long, wavy brown hair because as t=she was swinging higher and higher with him, it flew in the wind and whipped at her face. He also thought it was natural. Thinking back, he wasn't even sure if he'd been with a girl who had kept their natural hair colour. That may be something to do with the fact every girl he fucked was either a whore or a slut.
He also remembered her smile, her make-up free face shone in the orange glow of streetlights when she smiled, White teeth glimmering behind her peachy lips. Tig realised he didn't even know her name. Let alone her number. not that this was any different from what he ever got, if a girl gave him her number, it would shortly end up in the rubbish bin. but for some reason, he wanted her name, and yes, in fact her number too. The truth was, Tig wanted to see her again.
'Woah, easy there, easy boy. Just seeing if you're okay man. you are okay, right?' It was just some just over teenage boy who thought he should interrupt Tiggy's sleep. Now he was awake he had a pounding headache and nausea. Fucking asshole. Trying to help, my ass he's trying to fucking help was all Tig was thinking 'Of course I'm fucking alright, Fuck off,' The boy stumbled away, leaving Tig to his own devices.
Tig groaned, rubbing his face before flopping back onto the red surface, banging his already tender head in the process. 'Ah Fuck.' He yelped out loud before giving up on going back to sleep as he originally planned. He jumped to his feet, running his hand through his hair. He sort of remembered the way back but didn't remember it taking so goddamn long to get there. He decided to go grab his bike, then drive to his small apartment and sort his shit out before facing the guys.
They'll probably have questions, it's already at least 1pm, and Tig hadn't checked up on any of them. Hopefully they'll believe the bullshit he'll feed them. Probably that he picked up some pretty disposable whore. At that thought he remembered the swing set girl. He put his hands to his face as he remembered what had happened. Not much really, except that was probably the longest he had spent with a girl who was, to his knowledge, single and not an old lady and not fucking them. He didn't just 'hang out' with girls like that.
He put all of this out of his mind when he reached the bar he left his bike at, it was right where he left it so he hopped on, not bothering about the helmet, it'll just aggravate his hangover headache pulsing in his brain. As he raced to his small apartment that he seemed to be spending more and more time at, he cleared all thoughts of the swing set girl and thought about the club.
He stepped off of his bike and grabbed his keys to his front door, he walked past a group of teenagers on his walk there, and glared at them, they squealed and fled from him. He wasn't really in a nasty mood but he had a hangover and that generally made him cranky enough, on top of the mysterious girl and the shit with the club.
As he opened his door, he shoved all of the shit blocking the door out of the way and made his way to the coffee maker, turning it on before making the short walk through to the bathroom. Inside the bathroom was only a small shower, a grungy toilet and a sink; never used as the taps don't work. He turned on the shower and checked there was hot water. He was in luck, usually at this point there was not warm water and he had to face a freezing shower. He left it running a few seconds to let the temperature mellow out, whilst stripping off his clothes, slinging them on the floor.
When he was in the shower, he turned up the heat, he liked to shower in scalding water, to really wash it all away. He lathered up his hair in shampoo and thought about the swing set girl again, trying to recall her features, He remembered she had long, wavy brown hair because as t=she was swinging higher and higher with him, it flew in the wind and whipped at her face. He also thought it was natural. Thinking back, he wasn't even sure if he'd been with a girl who had kept their natural hair colour. That may be something to do with the fact every girl he fucked was either a whore or a slut.
He also remembered her smile, her make-up free face shone in the orange glow of streetlights when she smiled, White teeth glimmering behind her peachy lips. Tig realised he didn't even know her name. Let alone her number. not that this was any different from what he ever got, if a girl gave him her number, it would shortly end up in the rubbish bin. but for some reason, he wanted her name, and yes, in fact her number too. The truth was, Tig wanted to see her again.