CHAPTER 6.
Dylan.
My ringtone was what woke me up from an alcohol induced sleep. After dropping Sheila off last night, the entire ride back home consisted of me drinking whiskey and lots of it.
Even when I got home, I stumbled my way through the living room to where my fridge stood, the bottle of whiskey inside calling my name.
Glancing at the clock, I realized the alarm hasn't even gone off yet. Nothing is worse than waking up feeling like shit before the sun has fully risen.
I debate on trying to slip back to sleep, but my phone is already ringing again. As much as I wanted to hiss and turn the phone off, one glance at the screen and I picked it up immediately.
"Hello Granny," I greeted and the effort of talking went straight to my brain, resulting in a rhythmic throbbing. I needed to get my shit together.
"Hello son. How was the ball last night?" She asked. My brain started running. What event?