Vrrrrrrrrr….
Vrrrr……………

The annoying, pesky sound of what I assume to be someone's vibrator jolts me from a deep, restless sleep. That shit must have amazing batteries. 

Are they industrial?

Vrrrrrrrrrr….

The noise persists somewhere in the background as I pry the arms of some girl off from around my waist.

Jesus Christ. 

Who leaves these things on?

Vrrrrrrrrrr…..

As I sit up, a soft groan escapes her, but not before I turn the other way to find the body of another woman sleeping on the opposite side of me. The scent of mundane Betas clings to the air, reminiscent of baby powder. Boring. Forgettable. Bland, truly, with a tinge of zest, but the lingering smell of sex and alcohol quickly overpowers it. My vision is blurred, my thoughts… scattered, only focused on finding the damn thing and shutting it off. I groan in frustration as the partially nude man lying at our feet snores loudly.

...Guess it was a good night.

Whiskey and vodka bottles lie strewn across the penthouse. Condoms, panties, bras, you name it, litter every corner.

Fuck... what were their names again?

But the man's snores catch my attention, practically rattling the room with every breath. With a low growl, I kick him off the bed, sending him crashing to the floor with a loud THUMP.

No sound.

No movement.

His absence, however, gives me enough room to finally haul myself off this damn thing...Only to tumble over the side like a complete moron.

I stand and begin rummaging through the pile of clothes scattered across the floor. Finally, a little pink bullet tumbles from one of the ladies' booty shorts... Only to find out that's not what's making the noise.

I whine internally, haphazardly slinging on the first pair of boxers I find.

Gross?

Yeah, I know.

Speaking of...

Glasses?

Where are my glasses?

I stumble, nearly tripping over myself as a wave of lightheadedness washes over me. Maybe I overdid it this time. More than likely, the alcohol is still rampaging through my system. The floor seems to drift farther away for a split second before the sound of someone stirring catches my attention.

One of the women.

I freeze like a deer in headlights.

Maybe if I don't move... she won't see me?

She slowly rubs at her eyes, squints, surveys her surroundings...Then…curls back into the sheets and goes right back to sleep.

Phew.

Relief ricochets through me as I finally find the source of my disturbed slumber.

My phone.

Just as I grab it, the screen, now cracked from last night's endeavors, lights up.

I unlock it.

43 missed calls from Mother.

My eyes practically fly out of their sockets. I throw on my Rolex before frantically shoving the clutter off the table in search of my glasses. Finally, I find them, and the room, along with its inhabitants, snaps into focus.

Quickly, I gather my clothes, or at least what I think are my clothes, and shuffle toward the bathroom.

"Leaving so soon?"

The woman who'd been wrapped around my waist earlier, lazily props herself up on one elbow. A grimace threatens to curl across my face, but I'll play it cool.

"Yeah. Sorry. Getting a call from work." I throw on a pair of socks without taking my eyes off her.

"But it's Saturday?" she asks.

"Exactly." It isn't until I glance down that I sigh at the realization. One sock is black and barely reaches my ankle; the other is white and halfway up my calf.

Whatever. No time.

I shimmy into a pair of pants as she curls a strand of hair around her finger.

"What about a quickie before you go?"

I pause.

That actually doesn't sound too bad.

Five minutes wouldn’t hurt.

Vrrrrrrrrrr…

I groan in frustration.

There she goes again. The designated cockblocker.

What the fuck could she possibly want?

"Never mind. Just go back to sleep."

She pouts, her doe eyes growing glossy.

"I don't have time. Maybe some other day." I throw her a wink, and her feigned disappointment quickly melts into a smile.

"Fine. Just write your number down and I'll be sure to contact you." With that, she disappears back beneath the sheets.

I take this as my opportunity to rush into the bathroom.

Vrrrrr….

My phone goes off again.

Vrrrrrrrrrr…..

Violently this time.

Mother.

Fuck no.

Not dealing with this right now.

I let it go to voicemail.

She calls again.

Ignore.

Again.

Ignore.

Again.

IGNORE.

I take a long, hard look in the mirror. My sea-blue eyes stare back at me, my black hair completely disheveled, but a few quick passes with my fingers sweep it into place.

Maybe I should call her back?

The thought alone makes my nerves stir, but I decide against it. I'll see her at the office anyway. I button my shirt with one hand while shoving my phone into my pocket with the other. Then, I reach for the nearest toothbrush.

Actually...

Never mind.

With disgust, I toss it back onto the counter.

It looks used, so…finger brushing will have to do. 

The sour stink of alcohol clings to my clothes, but fuck it. At least I'll have minty breath. 

I tug at my collar, straighten my cuffs, and decide I'm about as presentable as I'm going to be. I flash myself a smug grin.

Even in disarray, I'd still fuck me.

Hopefully Mother can forgive the obscenity.

I pat my pockets instinctively, only to realize I'm missing my wallet.

Great. 

I check the counter.

Nothing.

Cabinets?

Nothing either.

My gaze drifts toward the bed.

By some miracle of God, I find the damn thing tucked beneath the mattress.

Why it was there to begin with...

I have absolutely no idea.

Couldn't tell you.

Hook up with enough people, though, and you'd be surprised by the shit you do...or don't, find.

Or where things end up, for that matter.

I scan the room one last time before my eyes fall on the woman I'd spoken to earlier. A twinge of guilt tugs at me, maybe I should leave her with something. I pull open a few drawers, looking for a notepad. A paper? Anything. Instead, I find a weathered copy of The Odyssey and a pen.

Dog-eared from years of use. Clearly somebody loved it. I flip through the pages, finding little notes and messages left behind by strangers.

Such a cherished piece of literature...

I tear a page out anyway and scribble down a number.

No, not my number, of course. 

Far too valuable to hand out to strangers.

Instead...

The number to the pizza pub two blocks from here.

Specifically, the owner.

Lovely Stevie.

Consider this my good deed for the day.

A smirk cracks across my face. Hopefully she'll forgive me too. Stevie, on the other hand...The bastard sure does need it.

With that, I leave behind a generous stack of cash, enough to cover three nights' stay and, hopefully, the inconvenience. Money usually fixes things.

Vrrrrrrrrrr…..

With a sigh, I fish my phone from my pocket and wait.

And wait.

I step into the elevator...

On the last ring...

I answer. 

"Hello?"