What the Hell Did I Do?

The unceasing blare of the alarm shredded through the fragile layers of my sleep, yanking me awake with brutal force. I groaned, slapping blindly at my phone until the noise mercifully stopped. My head throbbed in protest ─ a dull, pounding ache that pulsed behind my eyes, a harsh reminder of last night's reckless choices.

Blinking against the harsh light filtering through unfamiliar curtains, I sat up slowly, wincing as the room spun for a moment before settling into focus.

Where… am i?

The walls were foreign, the bed too firm, the sheets too crisp ─ everything about this room screamed not mine. Unease prickle along my skin, setting my nerves on edge as I struggled to piece together how I had ended up here.

Fragments of the night before began to float up from the murky depths of my hangover ─ the buzzing club, the endless shots, the chaotic whirl of music and dancing, the stranger who had cut in line… and the, Aria.

I was supposed to be waiting for aria.

Panic flickered in my chest as more memories rushed back, disjointed vivid. The line-cutter. The way he pulled me from that weird dude. His hand steady on my waist. The heat of his body against mine. And the ─ oh God ─ the car.

the chauffeur.

My heart slammed against my ribs as the memory sharpened. The kiss ─ hungry reckless. The weight of him pressing me into the seat. The way I had practically thrown myself at him, desperate for something, anything to erase the hurt max had left behind.

A sick feeling curled in my stomach. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the images away, but they clung stubbornly to my mind.

Did I really…?

My throat closed up as realization dawned ─ horrifying and impossible to ignore.

Did I give my first time to a total stranger?

A stranger whose face I couldn't even clearly remember?

The memory was a blur shadows and sensation ─ the rough scrape of stubble against my skin, the heat of his hands, the rumble of his voice. But his face? It slipped away from me every time I tried to pin it down, a maddening black spot in my mind.

Shame crashed over me in waves, hot and suffocating. I buried my face in my hands, groaning into my palms

what the hell did I do?

My heart hammered against my ribs as I looked down, realization crashing into me like a cold wave.

my clothes were gone ─ replaced by an unfamiliar oversized white shirt that hung loosely off my shoulders.

Panic surged through me, freezing my limbs for a heartbeat before sending a violent shiver down my spine. the horrifying thought hit me hard: had something happened without me even knowing?

My mind reeled as I scrambled to check the rest of myself, my fingers clumsy and frantic. my pants were still on. My shoes were still strapped to my feet. a shaky breath escaped my lips, a small, pitiful sound of relief.

At least… at least that line hadn't been crossed. Not all the way.

But the fear didn't leave. It sat heavy in my chest, clawing at my throat. The confusion was unbearable, gnawing at the edges of my thoughts as I tried ─ and failed ─ to stitch together the broken fragments of memory.

I remembered being in the car.

I remembered leaning in ─ kissing him.

The way his hands had gripped my waist, the taste of whiskey on his lips, the dizzying rush of heat between us.

But beyond that? Nothing. a black hole where certainty should have been.

My stomach twisted painfully as a darker thought crept in, uninvited:

did he take advantage of me?

or…

did I beg for it? Did I want it?

The uncertainty gnawed at me, a hollow, aching dread that made my skin crawl. I hugged my arms around myself, the unfamiliar shirt swallowing me whole, as shame and fear battled inside me.

Had I crossed a line I wasn't ready for? Or worse ─ had someone else crossed it for me?

The pounding in my head grew sharper, drowning out any attempt at reasonable thought.

I squeezed my eyes shut,, wishing ─ praying ─ for the memories to return, for something solid to cling to in this sea of doubt.

But all that came was the hollow echo of my own fear.

A shrill blare tore through my thoughts, dragging me back to reality with a jolt.

My alarm.

Shit.

Panic surged through me as I fumbled for my phone, my fingers clumsy and shaking. One glance at the time sent a fresh wave of anxiety crashing over me.

late. I was going to be late.

"I'm screwed," I muttered, voice scratchy with sleep and panic. I couldn't afford to miss work ─ not at the bakery, where opening meant everything. The image of my boss's frowning face flashed before my eyes, fueling my urgency.

Pushing aside the chaos swirling in my mind from the night before, I forced myself to focus.

first things first: figure out where the hell I was.

I pulled the maps app with trembling hands, heart racing.

please be somewhere close… please…

but even as the location pinged, the knot in my stomach only tightened. I was nowhere near my neighborhood   this was a part of town where the houses had gates, long driveways, and price tags that belonged in glossy magazines.

With no time to waste, I flipped over to my ride-share app and requested a pickup, praying the driver would get here fast.

Moving quickly but cautiously, I crept toward the door, every step careful and deliberate.

the last thing I needed was to run into him ─ not like this, not with his too-big shirt swallowing me whole and my pounding headache making everything feel fuzzy and raw.

The hallway beyond the door made me falter.

my breath in my throat as I took in my surroundings.

Polished marble floors gleamed under crystal chandeliers. Tall, intimidating doors lined the vast corridor, each one carved with fine detailed designs.

Paintings I didn't recognize ─ but that screamed money ─ hung on the walls. Fresh flowers sat in massive vases along the hallway, their heavy scent making my stomach churn.

I was in a mansion.

A real, sprawling, terrifying fancy mansion.

What the hell had I gotten myself into?

I swallowed hard, heart thudding painfully in my chest, as I tiptoed deeper into the maze of luxury, feeling more like an intruder with every silent step.

the farther I went, the more I realized just how out of place I was ─ a hung over, half-dressed mess stumbling through a world I had no business being a part of.