Everything that could go wrong.

You slowly open your eyes, feeling your head sting as the light enters your window. It feels like you spent the night with your head inside an engine, even the soft sunlight through your curtains hurting like hell.

Slowly getting up and looking around as your vision finally adjusts to the illumination, you walk to the bathroom, even tripping on the way there, a bunch of paper dropped on the ground near a notebook. Many other messy spots are now decorating the room, but you ignore all of them and just move on. You shower is slow and silent, every movement making it feel like your head is about to explode. After almost an hour you're done, and feeling much better.

After returning to your room and drying out, you grab your phone from the ground and unlcok it, being bombarded by dozen messages from random numbers - profiles with faces you never saw before. A few messages come from one of your friends, worried about what you did after leaving the party yesterday.

Shit...

The messages read:

Jen r u ok?

U left so quick

W happnd?

Hope ur safe lol

The guys were so worried

Took that rejection not so fine, din't u?

U wldnt stop talking about Alex, he was soooo uncomfortble

And then you CONFESSED LMAO

You stop reading and drop the phone down. Fuck. All your bosses were there! And now Alex, too, is one of your bosses, one to whom you confessed. Breathing slowly, you try remembering what happened yesterday, but no memories come back, so you lean down, almost dropping your towel, grab your phone and sit on the bed. The messages go on:

So, after confessing u come to th secretary table, still shouting n now also crying, and say

"fuck this I AM GOD, BITCH I WILL MAKE YALL NEVER TURN ME DOWN AGAIN"

and it was creepy and not vry professional, so the bosses might wanna talk to u monday

That's when u left, talking about your notebook or smthn

Oh no, the notebook! Your eyes widen in fear. Drunk you might have done something (else) you'll regret - again. You jump to your feet and look around, trying to remember where you left it. An even more recent memory returns, and you get it from the mountain of paper and debris on the ground, quickly opening it and searching for anything new. And after a moment, in one of the last pages, you find a letter.

To you, from you.