FicWad

The guitarist opened up his eyes, to find himself laying on the floor, splayed out and stark baked. Except for the blanket he had messily on him but mainly on the floor beside him. He doesn't recall anything, nothing at all. All he recalls is getting absolutely smashed before and after the show. Everything else was a black picture. He blinks, and realizes that his head is just throbbing with pain. He rolls over onto his stomach as he forces himself up onto his feet. He looks at the bed, seeing the shape of someone underneath the sheets. The linens tightly wrapped around the person, it was entirely impossible to make out who it was. He tried to think of last night again, but it hurt to think, as his head just started to throb even more.

As Joe makes his way to the bathroom, he flicks on the light, as he looks at himself in the mirror. God, did he look like death warmed over. It looked as if train ran him over, and they left him for the wolves to devour. He then notes some sort of make - up(god knows what) smeared on his face. He turns on the faucet and washes it off. He turns it off, as he takes the dish towel as he dries his hands and whips his face with it. He then notes that hes covered in more smears. Maybe it was the chick in bed. He sighs, as he looks at himself in the mirror again, his eyes blood shot. He sets the towel down as he walks on over and flips on the shower.

The hot water felt good as it ran over the guitarist aching body. He just let himself relax as he was standing under it, his head getting soaked. His hair drenched and hiding his face as he put his hand on the dial in the shower and made it even hotter. The hotter the fucking better. That's the way he looked at showers. He grabbed the bar of soap as he started to rub it all over his skin. Foam and small bubbles forming on his arms, chest, and so on. He rinses off, as he grabs the shampoo bottle and flicks open the cap. He squeezes some into his hand as he then sets the bottle aside. He rubs the substance in between his hands and finally started to rub it on his head. The foam and bubbles starting to run down his back and shoulders. He then stuck his head under the water and let it take care of the shampoo.

After that he just stood there. Hoping this would help him try and figure out what happened last night. Also, if he scoured a chick, he had to remember her name. Girls went fucking bat shit if you don't remember there name. The water started to 'feel' cold, as Joe turned the dial all the way. He could give two shits if he was burned red.

The bathroom door opened up, as Joe froze for a moment. He swallowed his fear, and took deep breath. Maybe if he got a glance at her, it'd ring a bell. As he silently peeks around the shower curtain he almost gags on his own air. Oh god. Oh fuck no. He has never been smashed enough to do this. Or does he just think he did it and it never really happened? Well, then what would explain the naked singer before his eyes?