Drugs, alcohol, parties, and talking to women he found attractive. This was all wound up into the festivities of the night before. As much as Mike loved it, the consequences would soon let him know that it wasn’t worth it. Not one bit. He drank enough to have what he would call a good time. It was a good ice breaker for him and his roommate, Floyd. Hot boxing in the car had pretty much confirmed that the two of them would enjoy living under the same roof without many problems. And as for the women… Well, Mike didn’t score as he would put it. It wasn’t that his game was bad, but more that he was just too intoxicated. The young man still enjoyed himself. Well, he [i]did[/i] enjoy himself.

A loud groan escaped Mike as he instantly put both hands to his throbbing head that sank towards his knees in the backseat of the car. He didn’t care that he hadn’t slept in his bed or that the whole world was spinning around him. His main concern was his awful headache. He would kill to get rid of it. Like really murder someone… viciously. Okay, maybe not that bad, but it was just terrible. 

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Shiiiit.” Mike said as his head throbbed like a second heartbeat. Except this felt like a heart covered in studs. The pain could easily be seen on his face as he gritted his teeth and shut his eyes really tight. “Fuck.” He said again just to get something out. He was already mentally promising to never drink again, while praying for ibuprofen. [i]This hangover is going to fucking kill me![/i] He thought just as things only got worse.

His eyes glared out past the open car door as he heard the sound of someone wailing in excitement. It wasn’t just anyone though. It was Floyd, his new roommate. In seconds, that hot box that had sealed the deal meant nothing as he thought of beating Floyd half to death for making his headache about ten times worse. Mike balled his fists up against his temples as he shut his eyes. Floyd continued as if he was having an orgasm, unknowingly making things worse on Mike. He groaned again, this time it was a bit deeper. Mike had to put an end to this or his brain just might explode. 

With a sudden burst of movement, Mike opened the door and slammed it shut. He held the left side of his head with his left palm as he round the car and approached Floyd who was on the ground. He crouched down to his new friend and grabbed him by the collar before tugging him close and speaking quietly yet extremely cold.

“Shut the fuck up. Just shut the fuck UP!” Mike said the last word as loud as he could without having to wince from his own raised voice. “I have a headache, and this is not fucking helping. You know what would help though? Drugs. Lots of drugs.” Mike explained directly. This was no bullshit, this headache was from hell.