"Oh God," came a muffled moan from under a pile of blankets on the cheap-ass hotel bed. "Why did I ever let you talk me into that party?" The pile shuffled and shifted. A foot with an untied shoe poked out from near the headboard, kicked about for a moment, and then retreated back inside the pile. After another few beats, the whole structure pushed up and away, off to the side, revealing Alex in all his hungover, bleary glory. His hands patted down his pocket areas, although his pants were only loosely attached to his waist, having been ripped at the seam near his right pocket. His eyes were squeezed shut as he searched, until finally he found a sweatshirt pocket near his armpit. He fished about for a minute.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Because you know I need the exercise. Besides, it is good for you to get out and socialize.</span><br/><br/>One eyebrow twitched upwards as Alex's hand drew out a beaten pack of cigarettes. "Really? You're looking out for my social well being?"<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Alright. It may not kill you, at any rate.</span><br/><br/>One eye cautiously opened, revealing horrific amounts of bloodshot veins around the normal bright jade colour. "Ugh." The eye swiftly shut again. "You coulda fooled me, man. I'm pretty sure this is some sort of personal hell." He shook the box and stopped grimacing for a second when he heard the rattle of at least one tube inside.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">HA! As if you would know.</span><br/><br/>A finger deftly flipped open the lid of the pack, and it was upended into the left palm. The contents were revealed to be a single cigarette, broken at the filter. "Aw, c'mon. This is bull." Alex flung the offending item at the wall and made a petulant noise before struggling up to his elbows and peering around.<br/><br/>The room was an utter disaster. The buzzing noise he had heard upon waking was the flickering bulb in the bathroom, which also proved to be the only light on, excepting the neon bulb shining somewhere outside through the curtains, which hung off of a rod now sticking out of the wall at an odd angle. He looked closer. Yes, that was definitely missing a bolt or something. The mirror and television were both turned to face the wall, although that was normal now, as both he and Amaranth had an aversion to the things being near where they slept. He counted at least a half dozen empty pint bottles in various locations. The shelves from the dresser had been pulled out and were stacked into a pyramid in front of the bathroom door. The lampshade was nowhere to be seen. And the little table and chair were...on the ceiling?<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Superglue. I do not know why you and your acquaintances found that as comical as you did, but it was done.</span><br/><br/>"Huh." Alex swung his legs out from the bed and gingerly over the piled sheets. With another groan, he managed to upright himself from that awkward position, though his stomach began churning instantly. He hurried as fast as he was willing over to the bathroom and kicked the shelves out of the way with a loud clatter, then lunged across the tiny tiled floor and proceeded with the necessaries.<br/><br/>Wiping his mouth, he glanced over at the bathtub. There was a leg sticking out of it from his view. Sitting up straighter, he leaned over to whatever discovery awaited him. Which, as it turned out, was Avery, his co-worker of sort. At least, they had the same agent. He was collapsed into what looked an incredibly uncomfortable position, though he had a smile on his face, so that was probably okay.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">He yet breathes. Amazing. I would have thought that much cocaine would have either kept him awake until dawn several days from now or killed him.</span><br/><br/>"Nah, he's tough. Ish." Alex glanced up and saw his cell on the bathroom counter. He fumbled getting up for a second, then grabbed it and sat back onto the lip of the toilet seat before he fell. Flipping through, he found several new phone numbers, and someone had apparently taken dozens of pictures. No one he recognized, but that was normal. He closed everything and looked at the time. "Wait, it's only ten thirty? Why am I awake?"<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Mm. The outing was, in fact, last night. You have been asleep for some sixteen hours or so.</span><br/><br/>"Oh, damn." Alex shook his head, then stopped and winced. He sat for several moments without moving, then inhaled sharply, held it, and exhaled deeply. "Food. I need food, a smoke, and quite possibly more alcohol. And then we're going home."<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Do what you wish, but at dawn it is my day. Or have we forgotten again?</span><br/><br/>"Ugh. No, we have not forgotten," Alex said sarcastically, wondering if Avery would wake up and look at him funny. "But right now we need all of those things I mentioned. And maybe to clean up in here a bit, though I am tempted to let him figure that one out." But they both already knew he wouldn't let it lie at that, so he stood and began sorting out what he could of the mess. Ten minutes later, he gave up after tripping on the blankets and crashing into the wall, uttered a string of curses, and stalked out the door into the 'courtyard' of the motel. He was pretty sure there would be a c-store somewhere close by, so he picked a direction and headed up the street, stopping only to look up at the building next door to his. "See, this place has kitchens 'n' shit. Why the hell didn't we book it?"<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Ah, you had suggested that, but Avery said something about it being 'too classy for a night of groupies and blow', I believe.</span><br/><br/>Alex thought about the state of the room. "He may have had a point." He stared for a minute or so more, thoughts refusing to coalesce into comprehensible ideas, and the shrugged and continued his way up the street.