Last Name – Carrie Underwood
Clarke and Raven go out to get drunk. No messing around with them. They are still bonding over the whole 'Finn' thing and both of them just need to forget things for a while. Clarke catches the eye of a guy across the club quite by accident but she doesn't look away as perhaps would be customary. She doesn't look away for the simple reason that she is captivated. The man in question is tall, not basketball player tall, but taller than average. Much taller than her. She liked tall guys, men who she could reach up on her tip toes to kiss. He had curly black hair and intense brown eyes. He was very attractive like most likely out of Clarke's league attractive. But she could tell he knew it as well. Just the way he held himself and the smirk that told her he had caught her looking. But for once she didn't care.
She got up off her chair and walked purposefully towards him. She's not going to pretend like she didn't have a minor crisis of faith half way there and consider making a dash for the toilet but she had just enough alcohol in her blood to give her the nerve to continue her way over there. It helped that he was still looking at her and had indeed begun to move forward to meet her.
Upon reaching him she didn't say anything simply taking his hand and pulling him onto the dance floor. She manoeuvred his arm around her back and pressed herself into him winding her arms around his neck. If he was surprised or bothered by this he did nothing to show it letting his hands rest on her hips as she swayed them back and forth against him.
He wasn't like the guys Clarke normally dates in his black jeans and leather jacket he has clearly never been to prep school and would never look twice at a pair of bermuda shorts. He seems dangerous. He seems like he would be a good kisser and once more emboldened by the liquor she reached up onto her tip toes and pressed her lips into his. She was right.
Clarke wakes up the next morning only to look at the clock and realise it is fact afternoon. Her head is thumping and she knows from the sleeping figure next to her that this was going to be a difficult morning. As she rubbed the sleep from her eyes memories of the night before began to come flooding back. It started with Raven and her in the club taking shots and then jumped to the mystery man's performance. Just thinking about that made her toes curl and a blush rise on her cheeks. She hadn't had that many one night stands in her life but this would rank at the top. She was thankful she could at least remember that. Her memories quietened for a moment as she stared down at her hand, specifically at her ring finger where there shouldn't be a ring. She blinked several times hoping this was just a bad dream. But it was still there.
Panic gripping her Clarke rolled out of bed and stumbled towards the bathroom door. She grabbed her phone off the floor and locked the door behind her. She sat slumped on the closed toilet lid scrunching her eyes shut and trying desperately to recall the events of the night hoping beyond all hope that this was some sort of joke or prank their friends had played on them.
She was giggling a lot. But then so was he. He mind was slightly fogged and everything seemed unexplainably funny. She was pressed up against the dark haired stranger who had his hand firmly clamped around her waist. They weren't dancing anymore rather leaning up against a table half talking half making out.
"My ex got married today." She hiccuped
Oh god, had she really told him that. Way to sound pathetic.
"Oh really, did you go?"
"No, wasn't invited. But wouldn't have given him the satis.. satisfac... shh. It's only four months after I found out I was the other woman he was cheating on his long-term girlfriend with! She's Raven, she's great."
"Okay..."
"He married someone else! There was another other woman!"
He chuckled at her pressing a cheek into her temple.
"You know what..." He swayed dangerously threatening to take her down with him.
"What?"
"We should do it too, just to spite him!"
"Don't be silly that only happens in the movies, you can't actually get married at that late notice and when people are really drunk. We're really drunk."
"I bet it doesn't, I bet we could find somewhere to do it!"
Of course, Clarke Griffin could never turn down a bet. It didn't matter what the subject was this man was challenging her. He had to be proven wrong. Why did her competitive nature always seem to get her into so much trouble?
"Fine, prove it!"
And he had. It was all coming back to her now. The seedy chapel with strip lighting. There hadn't been too many questions and Clarke had managed not to slur her words or stumble too much and that had been enough. The guy, her new husband, had been so thrilled to be proved right. Oh no, then she'd offered herself as the prize.
Having had enough of remembering for one new day Clarke started up the shower and let the healing water run over her. She knew she was have to face whatever was the other side of the bathroom door when she got out but for right now she could let the bad memories slip away.
As she was stepping out of the shower clean if nothing else her phone began to trill vibrating its way towards the edge of the bathroom cabinet. It was Raven.
"Hello?" She kept her voice to a whisper hoping not to disturb the sleeping man in the next room.
"Clarke Griffin! Where the hell have you been I've been going crazy with worry. It's like four o'clock in the afternoon, well after walk of shame time! I thought you might have been murdered in an alley!"
"Nope."
"Is that all you've got to say? What happened? Where are you? Did you sleep with that hot guy you were dancing with?"
"Um... I'm not sure where I am, a hotel somewhere? I did sleep with that guy but I may have also married him in an attempt to prove him wrong?"
"WHAT?"
Clarke was fairly sure people in the entire floor would be woken by Raven's scream let alone the man in the next room.
"Shhhh! I'm hiding in the bathroom right now, freaking out, he's asleep next door!"
"What's his name?"
Clarke wracked her brain. It must've come up. There were vows after all.
"Bellamy, I think?"
"What about his last name?"
Clarke paused.
"Nope, no idea."
"Oh my god, Griffin, you are spectacular, I can barely ever convince you to go out let alone pick a guy up and now your living a country song! You're my favourite person ever."
"Shut up. How's Wick?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Yeah, yeah."
"So what are you going to do about it?"
"Well I'm going to go out there like a grown up and face it. I'm going to find out what his my last name is and I'm going to get this annulled. Then I'm coming home."
"Good luck."
Clarke hung up the phone and hitching her towel up she took a deep breath and opened the door. It wasn't what she was expecting. The guy was gone. The bed was cold – he'd been gone some time.
Feeling oddly deflated Clarke got dressed and packed her things. She had no idea who this guy was or how she was going to get hold of him but she decided that was a problem for another day. One where she was preferably not suffering one of the worst hangovers she had ever had.
For now she would just have to go home and worry about it all later. She wouldn't think about having to tell her mother that she was searching for her husband whose name she couldn't remember so they could get their stupid marriage annulled.