Jack Montgomery (manchildish) wrote in zenithrp, @ 2015-09-23 15:03:00 |
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Entry tags: | #day 001, britten, jack |
Who: Jack and [Open]
What: Waking up is hard to do
Where: Third Floor
When: Morning
Whatever dream Jack had been having completely vanished from his mind once consciousness slowly began to creep in. His first thought before he even opened his eyes, though he couldn't even begin to explain where it had come from, was the tune to "Rocket Man", though he couldn't quite put together the lyrics. He'd had that problem at the bar too, but that was likely due to all the shots he'd consumed by the time he'd taken the karaoke stage. Closely following that was attempt to recall exactly how much he'd had to drink the night before. A lot. Mostly tequila. Never a good plan.
Even the dim light of the room was oppressive as blinked his eyes open, grunting at the effort as his gaze attempted to adjust to the unfamiliar surroundings. So far it seemed as if someone had decorated the room in an attractive shade of "blurry as fuck", but that was starting to improve. It was hardly the first time he'd woken up in a place he didn't recognize, and he wasn't all that bothered by it as he attempted to pull the heavy, dull weight of his body up into a sitting position. Nice room, which generally equated to some well-off hottie who was likely trying to fight her hangover with a few good cups of coffee by now.
Of course, that hardly explained what he was wearing. Who the hell had hospital gowns in their arsenal of attire? Maybe she was kinky? Was this the aftermath of a rousing game of "Doctor" that he'd remember in a few minutes once reality finished settling in? Why the hell couldn't he have remembered that first thing? That would explain the bracelet on his arm, sort of, if she was really, really involved in the fantasy, but not the other thing. His eyes followed the line in his arm to the IV drip standing beside him. Something in his brain clicked, and almost instantly his eyes rolled up into the back of his head as he groaned.
"You gotta be fuckin' kidding me."
Instantly, his hands moved to pull the gown up, looking for any sign that someone had fished out his kidneys while he was out. No wounds, no stitches, and this wasn't exactly an ice bath. Everything seemed present and accounted for. Whatever alarm he'd felt only a second before immediately died out again as both arms flopped down onto the bedspread. Now he was just confused. One hand moved up to his head, rubbing sleepily at the mop of messed blonde hair, wanting breakfast more than anything else now. Bacon. Coffee.
He'd seen something on Buzzfeed once, where they used some sort of IV concoction to get rid of a hangover, quick hydration plus some weird vitamins or something. Maybe this apartment belonged to someone he knew, someone who had dragged him home last night and hooked him up to be a good buddy. The problem was, he could sort of remember getting back to his own apartment by himself.
The line came out with barely a wince, though he realized that attempting to climb out of bed immediately was a little easier said than done. It took two tries to get himself fully onto his feet without dropping back onto the mattress, and it was in the midst of the second try that he saw the camera. It caused him to freeze like a deer in headlights, then tilt his head to the side in confusion as he stumbled closer to it, and the mystery box resting below.
"Well, that's weird," he murmured, though his brain was surprisingly quick to remind him that this wasn't, in fact, the strangest predicament he'd ever woken up to. A close second, perhaps, at least so far. He nudged the box open with his foot, prepared to jump back if it turned out to be some sort of prank, only to find that his clothes were stashed inside. Good. A hell of a lot better than what he was wearing.
"If I signed up for some stupid reality show when I was wasted, you'd better be paying me some kinda nudity bonus," he told the camera, pausing as if waiting for a reply before he shrugged off the gown and dressed. His clothes still smelled faintly of booze and stale popcorn, a failure on the sniff test, but also a testament to the night he'd had.
When he was finished he trudged toward the door, opening it slowing. He hadn't quite been expecting a grand hall, his eyes moving up and around, frowning a bit as he processed what exactly was going on.
"Yep, this is definitely a reality sh-since when did I start fucking talking to myself?" His neck recoiled and stiffened at the question posed to absolutely no one, realizing just how ridiculous it was, and shook his head. After a second he simply sighed, his hand idly rubbing his arm where the I.V. had been plugged in only a moment before. "Yo, anybody here?!"