The day after (sunday bloody sunday)

11:43 am, Sunday


There's a disturbing noise in my room.
Oh shit, my pillow hurts. Or is it my hair? My head?
Something really hurts anyway.
And that fucking noise...
Sounds like a phone.
My phone actually.
Fucking annoying.
I'd better pick up.

AAAARGH! Something is moving in my bed!!!!
Scary.
I can't psychologically deal with that now, I'll just pick up.

"Hello?
-Hey! It's Stella!
-Cool.
-Oh shit, I woke you up, didn't I?
-No kidding.
-Sorry, just wanted to apologise for leaving so early last night, I was knackered. Did anything interesting happen?
-My brain hasn't started processing the details yet, but I think so...
-Shit, I missed out. Please keep me updated on the gossips!
-Hmm...
-Who got HIHES at the end?

(first flash-back* and quick look under the duvet)

-Erm, hmm, well, I suppose I did...
-What do you mean??? Anything happened or just number exchange?
-Hmmm... Oh... Good morning you... Err, Stella? You know what, I gotta go! Bye!"

(HIHES had started some very skilful moves to cure the headhache, and kept going until 3pm: Hmmm...)


*First flash-back: HIHES stood for Handsome Incredibly Hot and Extremely Shaggable.
That old school-mate of Mike's, who set off quite a heat wave amoung us girls last night...
After the third of Mike's infamous cocktails, I remember going to Stella to ask what she thought of him. HIHES of course! With her being single for more than a year, I told her to go for it now, because I wasn't going to hit on him, was I? I couldn't, could I? Enough trouble as it was at the moment, right? Still, I admitted I wouldn't be able to answer for myself after another drink...

After being "officially" nicknamed HIHES by Fiona, Tam, Stella, that pushy Scottish girl I wanted to kill and I, a bit of an un-spoken competition took place in between us... Pathetic, I know, but, believe me, he was definitely worth the effort!
I went around The House, asking who he was, who he knew in there, and, more importantly, was he gay?
I think he might have heard me at some point, because he made eye contact with me and said something to his friend about being gay.
So I took the plunge:

"Sorry to interrupt guys, but did you just say you were gay?

-Yes. I'm gay.

-Shit! (I meant it) My gay-dar is broken again! It's funny though, I'm never attracted to gay men! That's a real shame, and quite unfair, you know? May I say, it really is a shame, you're one of the hottest guys I've ever met... Actually, my gay best friend Andy is kind of single as the moment, he's really good-looking, too, he models for a living... (blah blah blah. I was high on three red bulls mixers to be able to go through the night, and simply couldn't shut up)

-Haha, no I was pulling your leg. I'm straight.

-FUCK! Haha. Erm... Well, on the bright side, I guess my gay-dar is repaired!

-I was just telling him that I thought you were really hot. You've got that kind of Kate Moss attitude, dancing with your drink and your cigarette...

-Erm... Haha?

-And he just told me you were doing [...] for a living. That's really impressive. I'm a guitar player. You want a smoke?"

-Oh yes!"

Ting ting ting jackpot!!!
Lilith gone with the wind!
Or gone with the booze and the lack of sleep.
Or gone to my room with HIHES.
As you wish. All three are true.

And what can I say, but WOW!
I hope he'll call...