A/N: I was given the prompt "Turning 21 is a b*tch to go through," from some song I don't really remember. I personally don't cuss, though this story seems to show otherwise, so if you choose not to read this because the language makes you uncomfortable, I understand. I would love if you do read this, however. Thank you. :)

Turning 21

I wake up feeling like P. frickin' Diddy. Yeah, sure. Let's go with that.

I feel like crap. My head is pounding like it's being trampled on by Mackenzie Falls fanatics, and my throat's feeling as scratchy as hell. Hangovers should be classified as an incurable disease.

I drag myself out of bed and rub my eyes, only to find when my vision is focused that there's some chick I don't even recognize still sleeping in my bed.

My bed. Why the hell are we at my place? Now I actually have to pretend I care and take her home somewhere instead of just pulling on my clothes and walking out the door. Great job, Chad. Bravo.

"Hey. Hey, you." I shake her shoulder roughly, zipping up my jeans with the other hand. Yeah, I'm multi-talented. She blinks a few times, getting the sleep out of her eyes before she realizes who it is.

"Hey, sweetheart," she purrs, tossing back her dyed blonde hair and wrapping the comforter around her body more securely to look "alluring," or whatever the hell she's trying to do. "Sleep well?"

"Hell yeah, baby," I agree, biting back my tongue to keep from spitting out that I hardly remember the night at all. I went to a club, I know that...with a couple buddies...because it was a Friday night and tomorrow was going to be -

My birthday.

Happy birthday, Chad Dylan Cooper. The big 21.

Not that it really matters, since I started drinking at eighteen, when Sonny -

Whatever. It's my birthday. I should go out tonight.

"Well, why are you out of bed, then, honey?" this girl coos, batting her eyelashes like a goddamn whore (well, she's here, she probably is one).

"Because I've got a meeting with my agent in five minutes," I improvise easily. I've always been good at that. "So get your clothes on and call a cab or something." Without another word, I turn around and face the door of my bedroom, ready to walk out.

"But wait!" I pause and look back with an annoyed expression, not bothering to hide my irritation.

"What?"

"Aren't you - I mean, weren't we - I thought - " Ha. She actually thought it meant something. Nice. What are we, members of Chuckle City? Don't think so.

"You thought wrong, doll face." I smirk and watch as her face falls. A part of me feels guilty, but the rest of me shoves it down, telling me that other people deserve to go through the crap that I had to endure after Sonny -

What the hell. I've only been up five minutes and she's come to mind twice already. What is it with hangovers that makes you go freaking insane?

"Have a nice life," I say shortly to the girl, turning around and leaving the room. Since I don't have anywhere to go today, I drive to the partying areas, knowing I'll find something there that can catch my interest.

After all, the only way to cure an excess of alcohol is with more alcohol. And now it's freaking legal, how awesome is that?

I pull into the first bar I see, ready to crash there for the next few hours until I'm so drunk I won't remember my own name.

"Strongest booze you got," I tell the bartender, pulling myself onto a stool and putting my elbows on the bar, burying my face in my hands. My head hurts like hell.

"Bit early for that, isn't it?" the bartender asks as he pulls out a glass. He's a short guy. Probably thinks he's all that cuz some big-name actress came in here once and he gave her a drink. All the people working around here are like that, the idiots. Screw them. They don't know what the hell fame is. They don't know how it changes people. How it changed her. How it changed us.

"No. No, it's not," I reply, irritated. "It's my goddamn birthday and if I want to drink, that's sure as hell what I'm going to do."

Seems like I've shocked him into silence. Well, good. Put him in his place a bit.

"Happy birthday," he says as he passes me the glass. I don't even look up before downing the whole thing, throwing my head back with a familiar motion.

"More," I hiss out, wiping my mouth with my sleeve. There's nothing like the feeling of being at a bar. You sit there, people serve you, you order more, and they give it to you. It's take, take, take, all of the time. She always said I was greedy.

"Second glass." I look at it for a moment this time, taking it slower. It looks pretty damn ordinary. I can see why I didn't waste my time before.

"Happy frickin' birthday, Chad," I mutter before tossing the contents down my throat.

"One more?" The bartender looks at me knowingly.

"Hell yeah. Now you're getting it," I retort scornfully.

"Chad?" It's a female voice, so I decide to look. It better not be the bitch I left at home, that would -

Damn me to hell. Could this day get any worse?

"Sonny." I take in the sight of her. Strapless red dress ending mid-thigh. Black waves to her waist. Necklace that disappears right there. And damn, makeup that looks absolutely smoking.

Too bad her name's Sonny. I'd take her home this very minute if not.

"Actually, it's Allison now." Can she read my mind? Well, in that case...

Just kidding. Screwing the ex who dumped you probably isn't a good idea.

"Fine then, Allison." I gulp down my third glass, slamming it on the table when I'm done. "What can I do for you?"

"Nothing," she shrugs. "I came in for a drink, didn't realize you would be here."

"You're not legal," I blurt out without meaning to. "You can't drink."

"How do you know?" She lifts an eyebrow, the move seeming almost flirtatious when she's looking oh so hot.

"Because you're younger than me, and it's my goddamn birthday." Fourth glass. Soon I'm going to start losing track. But oh, god, the pain in my head is subsiding and it feels so damn good.

"Right. Happy birthday," she says, not at all enthusiastically. "What have you been doing, Chad? I've seen you in more tabloids than on screen."

"What have I been doing?" I repeat dully. "Living the dream, Son- Allison. Living the freaking dream."

"Call me crazy, Chad, but this doesn't seem like living the dream." She gestures to me as I drink the fifth glass, slower this time. "Spending your birthday in a bar, drinking your troubles away?"

"For your information," I fire back, "this is only the warm-up. After this, I'll go crash at home, then I'll go out at night to some club and come home with a supermodel. Sounds like the dream to me."

She shakes her head at me, like I'm some kind of kid who went down the wrong path. "I don't think so, Chad."

The glass in my hand thuds loudly when I set it on the table, angry. "Well, if you care so goddamn much, why did you leave me?"

Her eyes begin to fill with tears, her gorgeous eyes threatening to spill over because of me. "I never would have left you if I had known this was going to happen."

"So you would have stayed with me out of pity." I roll my eyes and scoff before taking the next glass.

"No," she whispers, her voice rough with tears. "I would have stayed with you because I can't bear seeing someone I used to love so wasted. You're gone, Chad. You've destroyed yourself. And it's all your fault."

"No it's not," I say immediately. "It's not my fault, Sonny. Allison. Whoever the hell you think you are. It's yours."

She picks up her purse and walks away, her tears starting to fall. When she reaches the door, she turns around and looks at me for a moment.

"Happy birthday, Chad." Then she opens the door and walks out of my life for the second goddamn time.

And just like the last time, I don't stop her.

The bartender looks at me with wide eyes. "You going to go after her?"

I let out a careless laugh. "Hell no. Pour me another."

All I can see as I drink are her eyes, looking at me like I'm an absolute loser.

And I am.

"Turning 21 is a bitch to go through," I tell my new best friend as he hands me another glass.

He laughs.

"Tell me about it."

A/N: Review? :)