Chapter Song: Welcome to New York - Taylor Swift

     The next morning, let's just say I was far from okay.

The sound of the constant honks and chatty New Yorkers made me want to hop right back in the car and get the hell out of here.

Groaning heavily, I turn onto my back, the comforter that was encased around me slowly slipping down my body.

I managed to get a quick glance at the clock on the bedside table before the throbbing in my head came at me full force.

I foolishly attempted to rub the pain away, but it only made the throbbing much, much worse.

"Why the hell are you New Yorkers up at 7:00 in the fucking morning?" I grumbled angrily to myself.

I was irritated that I was woken up at such an hour of the morning, especially since my friends and I didn't get home until sometime after three. Big mistake.

They call this the City that Never Sleeps for a reason, you dumb fuck, my conscious snapped at me.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to fall into a peaceful slumber, but there was no such thing here.

Every second there was either a loud, long honk coming from a driver stuck in traffic, or a loud burst of laughter that could be heard, even from the fourth floor of this hotel.

They had the money to build this one hundred and fifty room suite, why couldn't they install sound proof walls for fuck sake!

Cursing under my breath--for the buzzing City and my dumb decision to consume so much alcohol, I sit up in my king sized bed.

Glancing around, I realized I was alone.

When I managed to crawl out of bed and make it to my en-suite, I said a silent prayer for the fact that Nicholas decided to choose the room across the hall from mine when I caught my reflection in the mirror. It was way uglier than usual.

My head of brown hair had found it's way into a less than cute messy bun, almost half of it had fallen out while the others were sticking up in different directions.

The remnants of my makeup was all over my face. The mascara left a stream down my cheek that would give anyone the impression that I was crying, chunks of it were stuck to the corners of my eyes, my eyeshadow seemed to find it's way to my nose and some of it was mixed in with the mascara streams. There was little to no signs of my bold red lipstick that I had applied on and my foundation was evidently cakey.

"Just fucking splendid," I muttered while glaring at myself through the spotless mirror.

The two piece I had worn last night was replaced by a large button up shirt that was definitely not mine. The shirt acted as a dress on me and reeked profusely of vomit.

I made a mental note to throw it in the wash before giving it back to Nicholas.

Tearing my eyes away from the poor excuse of a girl in the mirror, I turned on the shower, not really caring what temperature it was set at.

The walk in shower was polished and stainless, two shower heads on either side of the back wall were angled towards the middle of the tiled floor.

I don't waist any time slipping out of the shirt and stepping into the shower. The water was blazing but I welcomed it. The burning sensation subtly easing my headache.

I don't know how long I stood there, letting the scorching water run down every inch of my body. When I finally stepped out, I wrapped a white plush towel around my body and another around my hair.

When I looked in the mirror once again, I was much more pleased.

It took a few minutes but after spewing my clothes all over in search of a decent outfit, I finally settled on a pair of leggings and a slightly oversized maroon sweater.

By the time I had brushed my teeth and hair and cleaned up the room a bit, the Aspirin I had taken after getting out of the shower was starting to kick in.

After plugging in my phone, I head in the direction of my door, ready to get my hands on food and most importantly--coffee.

The minute I step out into the hall, the sounds of the city become muffled, allowing me a few minutes of quiet.

It was still pretty early--nearing 8:30 so I assumed everyone was still passed out--although I don't know how the hell that's possible with all the commotion outside.

Just as I shut my bedroom door behind me, the sound of another door clicking shut makes me look to my left.

There, standing nothing in a pair of grey sweatpants was Torez. His hair was sticking up in all different directions--much like my own was minutes ago and there were heavy bags under his eyes.

When the realization hit me, I crossed my arms and smiled smugly.

"That's not your room," I mused. "Rough night?"

He shook his head, a small grin twitching at the corners of his lips. "Oh, I'm sure you'd love to know."

My smile dropped, replaced with a deep scowl. "Fuck off," I muttered.

I waste no time in turning my back on him, remembering the much needed caffeine.

While I started brewing a pot of coffee, I rummaged through the fridge that was stocked with the basics--thanks to the staff.

Pulling out a carton of eggs and a loaf of bread, I get to work on making breakfast.

After cracking and mixing the eggs, I find a small notepad with the Hotel's logo on the bottom tucked away in one of the many drawers. I scribble down a quick grocery list before focusing back onto the food.

"Oh, so the hostile chick has a knack for cooking," Preston points out, an incredulous look crossing over his features.

Glancing back at him, I roll my eyes.

"Look at you, using a vocabulary way out of your league. Maybe you should stick to your level of intelligence," I say sarcastically, turning back to stir the eggs on the stove.

"What do you mean my level?" Preston asks dumbfounded.

I shrug nonchalantly, trying to hold back my laughter.

"I don't know if you realized, but you kind of complimented me right after an insult."

He shuffled behind me, but I didn't bother to see what he was doing.

"Maybe I meant to," he said quietly, his presence feeling suddenly close to me.

When I looked at him, there was no way he missed the look of shock on my face.

He smirked softly, casually hopping onto the island--totally ignoring the barstool a foot away.

"The quote, remember?"

When his words reached my ears, a thousand questions started swirling in my mind.

This boy was definitely bipolar in some way shape or form. One day he was throwing insults that I gladly threw back, other days he simply acted as if I wasn't there and other days, like today--he acted as if we haven't been butting heads since day one.

Why was he being nice all of a sudden, yesterday was one of those days where he overlooked me entirely. And now today, he see's me?

"Smells great," he added, watching me closely.

I decided it was best to ignore his earlier words.

"It's not for you," I muttered weakly.

"Aw come on, Dolly. Don't be like that." The cockiness was thick in his words and I felt the annoyance bubbling.

Something shifted in my stomach when the nickname he assigned for me left his lips.

I didn't waste my time on pondering it. He irritated me so much that it reached my stomach. At least that's what I made of it.

I kept my mouth shut while I finished off breakfast, scooping the scrambled eggs onto a glass plate along with the pile of bread I popped into the toaster.

"Food's ready," I announced, even though Torez was the only one in hearing distance.

He looked over at me from his position on the couch. He was up and on his feet within seconds, rubbing his stomach dramatically.

"Thanks Dolly, you're the best."

Now we both knew that wasn't his opinion.

After scooping a pile of eggs and two pieces of toast onto another plate, he makes a move to grab another, but I quickly slap his hand away.

"Don't be so greedy, Torez. There are three other people that have to eat!" I scolded him like a mother would do to a disobedient child.

"My bad," he answered, raising his free hand in mock surrender.

Rolling my eyes, I round the island, making my way down the hall where all of the bedrooms were.

I knocked on Nic's door first. "Breakfast's ready!" I hollered, leaning against the door frame.

When there was no response, I pushed the door open, only to be greeted by a sleeping figure, their body almost falling off of the king sized bed.

I felt around the wall in search of the light and when I finally found it, I flicked it on without hesitation.

Nic groaned, pulling the duvet over his head.

I laughed softly before ripping the curtains open to the left of the bed, ignoring the strangled sounds coming from my boyfriend.

"Go eat," I ordered as I pulled the blanket off of him.

Like Preston, he was only wearing a pair of black sweats, leaving the upper half of his body exposed.

"Food'll help--" Reaching for his hand, I place two pills into the palm of his hands. "--Along with these."

He moaned in response, immediately placing the two pills in his mouth.

His headache was most likely way worse than mine because he swallowed the pills down without any water.

The first hangover is always, always the worst.

"Thank you," he finally murmured, eyes squinting up at me.

Leaning down, I let my hair act as a curtain as I plant a quick kiss on his lips. "Hurry up and get dressed. Preston's selfish ass is going to eat all of the food."

He chuckled dryly before leaning up. "Alright, I'll be out in a minute."

With one final smile, I exit his room, closing the door behind me.

Unlike Nicholas, after knocking on Kat's door twice, it swung open, revealing a somewhat distressed looking Kat.

Her hair was framing her face perfectly and the once smudged up makeup was cleaned up neatly, a decent layer of mascara coating her lashes while her left eyelid was painted with a natural looking cut crease, while the other was bare.

"Oh thank god," she exhaled deeply before yanking me into her room, shutting the door behind her.

"What's up?" I asked, raising an eyebrow cautiously.

"I need your help."

She wandered into her own en-suite, signalling for me to follow.

All of her makeup was decorating the countertop around the sink. Almost every inch was covered with some type of makeup and I had to blink rapidly in order not to act surprised.

Never underestimate a girl's makeup collection, she would--and has told me repeatedly.

"With what exactly?" I asked, dragging my eyes over to her.

"I have no idea what to wear. I mean, I don't even know what the weather is like, let alone the trending style in New York City this week!" She said flustered.

She continued with her eyemakeup, a small frown on her anti-glossed lips.

I bit down on my lower lip, trying not to laugh at my best friend. Such a drama queen.

"It's pretty nice out. And as far as I can tell, everyone's wearing normal everyday attire." Her head whipped in my direction so fast, I was surprised her neck didn't break.

"Normal everyday attire?" She repeated.

"Adalyn, we're in New York! No one here is wearing normal attire!" She pinched the bridge of her nose, as if I've disappointed her tremendously.

"Oh, for the love of God, why'd I even bother asking."

Katrina has always been known as the drama queen, so her words didn't phase me as much as they would a stranger.

I knew she didn't mean any harm but she came across as a stuck up bitch to anyone who didn't know her personally. It's just the way she was and I wouldn't change it for anything.

I was the outspoken barbarian who really didn't give two shits about the glam and fashion while she was the prissy dramatic girly girl who revolved around just that.

What else would two best friends need in one another? We were the perfect duo.

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Hey guys! I hope you're enjoying the story so far, even if it's just a little bit. :p Please keep in mind that this is a rough draft, I scan through the chapters every time I update quickly, but I'm sure I don't catch every mistake.

Happy Reading❤️