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Mason

Fuck.

Isofucked up.

Likeroyallyfucked up.

Likepatheticallyfucked up.

What is wrong with me? Whose bright idea was it for me to get that wasted?

I roll over in my bed—head pounding, body sore as fuck, and stomach turning like an old washing machine on the spin cycle.

I look down to see I’m only in my dress pants with no shirt on. I rub my face, trying to adjust to the curtains, and wince at the stabbing headache from the light.

I blink a couple of times and see someone standing in front of me—twosomeones. I look up to see Bash and Erik, looking down at me with their arms crossed like disappointed parents.

Hell, get in line, I guess.

“Good…morning?” I say through the haze.

Bash shakes his head, but a little smirk appears.

“Did you have a fun night?” he asks.

I shake my head, then pull the covers back over my face.

Erik rips the cover back down, and I groan. “Hey. No shame. We’re not here to give you a lecture.”

Bash gives him a confused look. “I thought that’sexactlywhat we were here to do?”

Erik slaps his arm. “We’re just here to check on him.”

“Why are y’all here to check on me?” I ask, rubbing my temples.

Bash chuckles. “Because I got a text from you at two in the morning that was beyond incoherent and anobviouscry for help. Thought we’d come see what the damage was this morning.”

I frown and reach toward my nightstand, feeling for my phone. I finally find it, and when the screen lights up, my eyes almost burn out of my skull.

“Shit,” I mutter, squinting.

Bash leans over. “Read it out loud.”

I scroll up and see the text I sent him last night:

Mason:Bashhh bro ur a good guy dont every be like me. i hate it here. i hate everything and everyone

He points at my screen. “There’s another one.”

“Yeah…I see,” I say, glaring at him.

Mason: do u have coke? what does feel like? Will make me forget?

I close my eyes.

“Awesome,” I mumble. “Love that for me.”