It wasn't the fanciest place to wake up, Wicked would freely admit that but it was home. She woke up her eyes searching for something familiar. Sugar skulls and virgin of Guadalupe on the window sill, weird ceiling stain, Milk crates of vinyls along the walls by a record player, her kitchen and a sleeping French Bulldog on a pile of dirty laundry. Yep definitely her place. The only thing not familiar was the tan butt beside of her with a familiar shade of lipstick on one of the cheeks. Must've been some party.