Karl

The incessant buzzing of my phone’s alarm is drowned out by the pounding

inside my head—a lingering reminder of last night’s… festivities.

Why did I think that having one more whiskey was a good idea? I was already

pretty drunk last night by the time I got home, but I couldn’t stop thinking about

Abby.

In a feeble attempt to drown those thoughts out and get some sleep, I guess I

thought one more drink was the way to go. I still remember raiding the minibar in

my apartment and pouring a rather tall glass of whiskey—no ice—which I

Enter title…

proceeded to knock back while giving half of my attention to a crappy movie I

found on N*****x.

Oh, how I wish I didn’t drink that whiskey. I feel like shit, and I’m not even fully

awake yet.

crack open my eyes, the red digits of the bedside clock

at me: 7:15 a.m.

my eyes and yawning.

of me, equally as

that, and then a week from

never hurt anybody.’”

roll my eyes, running a hand through my unkempt hair.

drinking a sleeping pill

when I drink, and yet I also

“Maybe so, but you should get up. You might want

on Abby

mention of her name sends a

flooding back in. She

against the brick

the

I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

when

about today.

I say, although hesitantly. “But I don’t think it’s a good idea to

probably already at the studio, caught up

I’ll see her later

competition from the audience.”

give Abby a

bought tickets for everybody. I figure she will be

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