A/n: This i a new reader insert I'm working on... I'll be updating soon, and hopefully A Cool Guy and an OCD Kid will be updated soon as well. This story has a different feel than my other, but mostly because I can have a character to mess around with (you) and can not have to worry about butchering the story by making it OOC.
Prologue: My Alcoholic Friends
You crack open your seemingly bleeding eyes; your head is pounding. Quickly, you pivot your head from side to side while thrashing your arms to wake yourself up. It seems ridiculously humid right now. Suddenly you realize, as you thrust yourself up to be leaning on your elbows, you have no idea who is sleeping next to you. You squint, not sure how to take this in. Everything seemed shaded, but with a yellow tinge. The windows are slathered with greasy packaging paper. Slowly, you turn your head to see the alarm clock glaring at you with red numbers. You flail in attempt to find your glasses, but to no avail; therefore you were reduced to clutching the light-emitting object close to your throbbing face.
Did that say Tuesday?
Fuck. You were so fired. There goes another meaningless job you were excruciatingly over qualified for. Your stomach heaves and your lungs tighten. Hurriedly, you throw your face to your left to ward off the feeling only to puke all over the person sleeping next to you. You leap out of the unfamiliar bed and hold both arms to the side of your head in sickening surprise. The man (was it a man? It was hard to tell, you've waken up with both) was still sleeping. Oh well, that brown duvet looked retch-worthy anyway.
Heh. He must be really conked out. What was it you were fooled into taking? You can't exactly recall, because the last the thing you remember is taking shots of absinth with your friends. Damn alcoholics. They always plunged you into the aperture of the weekend.
After recognizing the fact you wouldn't be able to remember no matter how much you dug into your subconscious, you shoveled around the room and closely inspected anything that slightly resembled clothes in your blurry vision. Nothing. You literally found none of your clothes, just some crusty fucking cum sock. Only at this disconcerting point, you tilt you head down to further scrutinize this clothing situation.
You're pretty much clothed, wearing some red skimpy dress, so you assume it'll do. Fleetingly, you skirt and stumble your way out of the now vomit-reeking apartment. Thank god you could find the door.
You need a vacation.