Chapter 2 After Sex

• Drunk?
• I don't remember what kind of drinks I had at the club last night but I'm sure it was hard liquor because my head feels like it's about to explode.
• I don't remember everything that happened in detail last night ‘cause I was still in a state of shock on how the hell did I get back to my hotel room.
• I finally adjusted my eyesight and took a good look at the white ceiling which was above me. I noticed that there was a huge-ass golden chandelier hanging over me. The scent was unfamiliar too but it smelled like roses and I wonder if the hotel service cleaned my room for me.
• I groan in satisfaction, God this bed is softer than I remember.
• I snapped myself out of my thoughts, wait. I don't remember having a huge-ass chandelier above me in my hotel room.
• I stared at myself and for a second I thought I was in my hotel room but later then I realized that I wasn't. I am in someone’s room, on somebody’s bed and lying down with an actual freaking person next to me..
• Holy shit!
• I quickly grabbed the blanket over my chin and prayed that I wasn't naked beneath this white sheet. I clearly remember, I was wearing a tube dress with a huge top cut low which showcased my cleavage but I was feeling bare underneath this sheet.
• Please please please not be naked. I chanted mentally.
• I take a deep breath and close my eyes at the same time pulling the blanket up. Slowly, I began to open my eyes and to my surprise, I quickly covered myself back with the blanket as soon as I saw a man's bum facing towards me. He was completely butt naked. Fully naked. He was facing his back to me and Jesus Christ this guy has long brown messy hair.
• We had sex.
• That’s without a doubt.
• Holy shit we really had sex.
• We clearly and undeniably had sex because he's naked and I'm naked. We're both naked in one bed!
• Shit shit shit.
• I had sex with a stranger but where am I? Is this his house? His hotel room perhaps? Where in hell am I and where are my friends? Where's Nina? Where's Beth? Oh my god. Where are they?
• I try to remember what exactly happened last night, from one detail to another detail. I tried to recall how in hell did I end up in this room of someone that I don't even know of. But my thoughts were scattered and failed me as soon as I didn’t know how to trace everything that happened to me last night.
• I slightly pulled my head up and saw an unopened box of condoms on top of the side table drawer. A fucking box beside his bed.
• Jesus, that means this guy is a one big time fucker.
• I couldn't help but ask myself how many women he slept with already knowing he has that box next to his bed. If we did have sex, I wonder if we used that last night, though I'm mentally praying he did, but a voice still worries in the back of my head because it is still unopened.
• As I think of the entire situation more, my head begins to hurt more like hell. I cannot believe I actually had sex with a stranger. I have always promised myself that I wouldn’t be that kind of person, although we all have different kinds of needs as a woman, I still don’t want to be involved in situations like this.
• What would this guy think of me? A virgin just giving away her virginity to an actual stranger. I feel so disgusted with myself.
• After being emotional, I finally managed to recover from it and carefully pulled myself up from the bed. I felt pain in between my thighs. I felt my entire body aching, like my whole body parts were completely swollen. I began to search for my clothes and I was completely stunned with what I saw.
• My clothes were literally everywhere. Scattered everywhere.
• How wild was I last night?
• My white bra was near the door, my white underwear was on top of the couch, my dress was near the nightstand and my heels were distant from the other pair. I ran towards them silently, tip-toeing my way to each of my stuff while picking them up like I was a thief inside this room.
• I stare at the other clothes which were scattered too and there was a pair of black skinny jeans being inside out, a white dress shirt near the foot of the bed and a black boxer brief which was near my feet.
• This kind of view is totally shocking for a virgin like me.
• When I finished putting my clothes back on, I stood in front of the door and was ready to leave. But I paused before reaching the knob as my hand was in midair.
• I still haven't found out who the guy was. I need to know the face of this man who took my virginity.
• My virginity.
• Someone who didn’t love me and someone who I didn't know actually got my virginity. It may not be that important to anyone else but to me it is. I never wanted to give it away just like that but I did.
• I fucking did.
• I feel sick to my stomach thinking about what I did last night. I wanted to cry and pull him out of his bed and slap him but then maybe it wasn't his fault? What if I wanted what we did last night? What if I willingly said yes to him? But I don't know what exactly happened last night either. What if he forced me to sleep with him? Or what if I was the one who initiated everything or obliged to what he was saying and doing to me?
• The thought almost makes me want to cry again and get angry towards myself. I'm such a bitch!
• I turn around and stare back at the bed. My mouth opens in shock.
• There's blood on where I laid down a while ago.
• I feel my cheeks burning because of shame creeping under my skin and I knew I had to leave right away without letting him know that I was going because what we did was embarrassing. Staining his bed is already too embarrassing for me to take in.
• Talk about the walk of shame Miranda.
• Now you just gave your virginity to someone not important to you, who doesn't even care about you.
• I wouldn't want him to think that I was an easy girl but then I turned out to be, because here I am inside his bedroom fully naked just a second ago with the blood stain on top of his sheets. Shit Miranda.
• Gosh this is embarrassing.
• I think to myself, “You were just influenced by alcohol and you didn't know what you were doing all along.”
• Whoever this guy is, I really don't want him to remember me or what we did last night. I'm sure he doesn't even want to remember me either. As much as possible I don't want him to talk to me ever again. I don't want to remember this thing that had even happened to us.
• To me, most especially. I don't want to see him again and I don’t want to remember that this even happened.
• Wait...
• How will I not see him again if I don't even know what he looks like?
• Now I'm curious about how he looks. I had to know maybe a peek won't hurt. I need to know what he actually looks like. I need to look at his face.
• What if I gave my virginity to someone who is really old or to an ugly old man? But his butt didn’t really look all too saggy.
• What if I gave my virginity to my teacher in high school? Or it could be someone worse. Oh my God! I have to know who it is and if I don't know, it would be much of a trouble for me in the next few days.
• I tiptoed my way back to the bed carefully, like I was a robber, and took a deep breath in before I could stand in front of the man sleeping on top of his bed who I gave my virginity to one drunken night.
• As I finally stood next to the bed, I froze and stopped myself from breathing.
• No fucking way.
• It's Satellite Patrol’s lead vocalist, Hugo Saintclare.