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Then from there, things went hazy.
I remembered naked girls and their dancing. I remembered someone sliding their hands down my chest. I remembered the thumping of music and my cock being pulled from my pants, but then it all went blank.
I woke up the next morning to the stale smell of alcohol and debauchery. The smell of sex permeated the bus as rays of sunlight streamed through the curtained windows. My head was pounding, and my bed felt cramped. I raked my hands through my hair, peeling my eyes open to try and figure out where the fuck I was.
The first thing my eyes landed on was the naked girl next to me.
I studied her as I tried to get my bearings. I pulled up the covers from my naked stomach, trying to remember that the hell happened last night. I still had my jeans and boots on, but the woman lying next to me was completely naked.
As the woman slept in my bed, I slid from the mattress. Stumbling into the kitchen, I shielded my eyes from the glaring sun. I found an open bottle of beer on the counter and picked it up, chugging back the flat taste as I woke myself up. I leaned against the counter as I sighed, my eyes closed as I tried to relieve the headache forming at my temples.
But the sharp bang of the bus door opening didn’t help and caused Stone and Landon to roll out of their beds.
“I’ve fucking had it with you,” Hank said.
“Could you be any louder?” I asked.
“The fuck’s going on?” Stone asked.
“Shit. That’s Hank,” Landon said.
“Yes. It’s Hank, you assholes,” I said.
“I’m done with the antics. Where is she? Hank asked.
“Sorry, y’all,” the woman said, as she slipped past us. “Just gotta find my pants.”
“Her pants—she’s gotta find her fucking pants,” Hank said.
She covered up with her pathetic excuse for a pair of pants. They fit her snugly, tucked up underneath each ass cheek. Those jeans left absolutely nothing to the imagination, and Stone grinned as I brought the stale, warm beer back to my lips.
But Hank snatched the bottle from me as the girl scampered off the bus.
“Enough is enough,” Hank said. “I’ve helped you climb to the top of your fame, and this shit’s gonna ruin it all.”
“Relax Hank. The boys wanted to through a little party after the show,” I said.
“A little party. Do you even fucking remember last night?” Hank asked.
“Not necessarily,” I said. That’s how I preferred it. To forget everything.
Stone and Landon snickered as I tried to keep my grin at bay.
“I’m fed up with this shit. You fuck the wrong woman and she goes to the media with all this shit, and you’re done. Bang, just like that, your fame is over. Your dedicated fan base will see you as nothing but an alcoholic womanizer.”
“Watch it. I’m not a fucking alcoholic,” I said.
“You drink like a fish on stage, Drake! Of course, you’re an alcoholic. I know you’ve been through a lot in your life but you can’t just go about acting like your actions won’t have any consequences. You haven’t gone one performance without beer in your stomach.”
“That’s part of my persona, Hank! They expect me to come on stage shit faced. It’s part of my shtick.”
“Is part of your shtick bringing groupies onto the bus, having them dance around naked, then drinking yourself stupid until you can’t remember whether or not you fucked one of them or all of them?” he asked.
“I didn’t fuck that girl.” I honestly wasn't sure, but I'd hoped I was right.
Stone and Landon fell apart in laughter as I stumbled over to the couch.
“This has gone on long enough. If you don’t turn this shit around, I’m gonna hire someone to help you do it,” Hank said.
