[color=cyan][center][h2]Cole Anderson[/h2][/center][/color] [center]Penthouse suite, top floor. Morning.[/center] [color=cyan][i]God my aching head[/i][/color] The night before was quite the event. There was everybody from rich business men, college girls, NFL players, musicians there, and there was way too much alcohol and drugs. Cole told himself that this was bad for his health, but he could afford to have some cheat days. Besides, he had just won the middle weight champion of the world last week, and this was his way of celebrating. An up and rising star in both boxing and MMA, he was proud that he was starting to make a name for himself. That also meant a bit of cash that allowed him to have such a nice place, which he didn't mind at all. He didn't do it for the money, but it surely helped. Although this hangover did not, and he grabbed his head as he sat up in his king sized bed. Looking around, it seemed like he had half ass drunk wandered into his room and somehow made it into his bed. Maybe he didn't end up here himself. There were a lot of women he talked to last night, but there seemed to be quite the commotion. Lots of deranged drunk people snarling and fighting each other. There was a terrible amount of cocaine going around it seemed. Pity. He did remember one particular blonde he spent the night with however, and he did have quite fond memories of her. Drinking, drugs, sex, all the making of a good night. But when he woke up she was gone, so he could only assume he kicked her out or she left on her own. After sipping some water he could hear a faint siren echoing outside of his room, and he raised an eyebrow. Was there some kind of fire alarm going on? Or maybe there was just some really loud music. He wasn't sure, but just in case, he decided to dress himself and stuff some shit in a backpack. His attire consisted of a white tanktop, black leather jacket, ripped jeans, combat boots, and some dark shades. His backpack consisted of his sparing gloves, a t shirt and shorts, a water bottle, a few snacks, and a first aid kit. Also his wallet, keys, and other personal items. He also kept brass knuckles on himself for safety, considering he would be a prime target to get mugged. He was planning on going to the gym to practice, so even if there was a fire drill, he'd have his shit together. Finally he ran a comb through his thick hair, putting on his dog tags and looking himself in the mirror. Bright blue green eyes stared back at him, and he rubbed the five o'clock shadow on his face. He'd have to shave that later, but his was too lazy at the moment to really care. After inspecting himself he opened the door to his penthouse suite and gave a low whistle. The place was absolutely trashed. Furniture was torn apart, shit thrown everyone, broken glass. Food and alcohol littered the floor, there was a pile of trash in the corner, and it seemed like a tornado hit the place. [color=cyan]"Wow, I must have had quite the party."[/color] Cole said, looking around. Upon further inspection however, it looked like there was pools of dried blood in several spots. What the hell? It was almost like a murder scene in here. He didn't see any dead bodies, but it seemed like glass near the balcony was smashed, almost as if people launched themselves off the top floor. What the fuck happened? He made a mental note to invite less people to the after party. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, reaching into it and looking to see who it was. Charlotte came up on the contact list, and after a few seconds he realized it was the girl he was with the night before. What could she want? It had only been a few hours. Hopefully she wasn't the clingy type, although with all the shit going on it might be more serious than that. He hopped up on the counter, biting into an apple from the broken fruit bowl as he put the phone to his ear. [color=cyan]"Miss me already? You were only here a few hours ago."[/color]