Chapter Text
Dave woke up to another of his splitting headaches, this one bad enough to twist his stomach in nausea. He jumped out of the futon and straight for the toilet, where he began his day upchucking for the third day in a row. He lied on the sort of moldy floor for about ten minutes after, waiting for the pain and nausea to subside before standing up. He simply couldn't understand these hangover-type mornings as he had been completely sober for a month, and even then it was one drink ironically drunk for a college party he crashed.
He checked his Pesterlog, and noticed everyone was offline, as expected. It seemed they were on their way to spring break in Houston, and was expected to come to his apartment at about noon. Except for maybe Jade, but that was a no brainer. Dave glanced at the clock on the lower right side of his computer screen. It was one 'o clock.
"Oh HELL no…"
Dave ran into the bathroom again, this time to the shower, taking off his clothes in the process. He closed the shower door and turned it on. The water was cold, but Dave ignored this while scrubbing his hair and body with the bar soap sitting in its holder. He got out when he felt presentably and ironically clean enough considering the time, flushed the still filled with vomit toilet, and started drying himself off with a bright red towel. All the while brushing his teeth and combing his hair into his all-time favorite style.
Dave darted out of the bathroom with the towel covering up his torso, and looked at the answering machine. He grinned, as it was a nice, ironic touch, and saw he had a message. He pressed the blinking button and listened while he got dressed.
"Yo, bro! Lissen, it's not like I'm trying to be a homo or anything. Not like I'm not being unironic, cuz dat ain't cool. But'chu need to see a doctor. Last night you looked just TOAST, man. Worse than a pothead, dog. And you ain't on anything, either. Lissen, bro. I don't love ya in a gay, homosexual clusterfuck or anythin', but I'm startin' to worry. It's like you're getting' sicker each day, and-" BEEP. Call deleted.
It was that kind of shit that made Dave move out in the first place. Sure, the area was kind of a ghetto, but the high-rise was halfway decent and relatively cheap. Plus he managed to nab a top floor apartment, perfect as he hated the noisy douches on the floor above when visiting other friends. Might as well drop some phat beats while he waited, but the door rang just when he turned on his turntables. It exacerbated his headache immensely.
He pressed the button on the intercom. "Yeah?"
"Hey, Dave! We're here!" It was John.
"Hey John, Rose, Jade. I'll buzz you guys up." He let go of the button and pressed the one next to it, then pressed the intercom button again.
"…Uh… how does this work?"
"Egbert! You're supposed to open the door when I'm buzzin', man!"
"Sorry, man! I've never really been to apartments before! Could you ring us in again? I think we're gonna get mugged any second now!"
"Pansy." Dave held the second button again, then went back to the intercom. "Rose, is he in now?"
"Yeah, Dave. Though now he's making me hold the door so we can get our stuff in."
"Hey, I'm new at this!"
Dave shook his head. "Lissen, do y'all know my apartment number?"
Dave could hear Jade giggle "Of course, silly! It's 19-D! You've told us that many, many times!"
He rubbed his aching forehead. "Just wanted to see if John knew."
John yelled, apparently away from the microphone. "I know that!"
"Just get the fuck up here."
Dave let go of the button, and realized that he should check his bathroom mirror. He glanced at it from his position right next to the apartment door and noticed scribblings in lipstick. It wasn't from any woman, and he doesn't quite remember how he got it. Regardless, today's scrawling was a grocery list, one that he thought he put on a scrap of paper. He quickly put the list into memory and wiped the red lipstick off of the mirror, just in time to hear his door knocking. Dave went through the order of locks needed to unlock his door and opened it. He was greeted with John, Jade, and their goofy grins, and a subtle smile from Rose.
"Hey Strider!" John dropped his bags and bro bumped Dave. "This place yours?"
"Yeah." Dave smirked. "Got great rent, but it's a little… small. Like a midget's testicles after jumping into an ice cold pool."
Rose looked around. The main room was about fifteen by nine with a tiny kitchen, and could only see two other rooms, both ridiculously tiny. "Indeed it is, Strider."
"Yeah. I usually sleep out here, since my room is full of my slick turntables and shit."
Jade shivered. "Is your home always this cold, Dave?" The only window visible had an air conditioner haphazardly jammed into it, chugging in cold air into the room.
"Yeah, I'm kinda cold myself." John glanced at the dial. "Why is it 69?"
"Think, Egbert. Besides, it's hot outside, and I'm freaking hot. Both ways. Since I am always quite the stud."
"Dave… you can't feel how cold it is?" Rose wasn't sure if Dave was serious or bullshitting.
"I'm sweating, Rose." Dave artfully caused a distraction. "Look, it's hot outside for March, and I'm sure the beaches are open today. How's about we go there and stop arguing like those bitches in those godawful reality shows?"
"Sounds good." John nodded.
"Yeah, I thought I'd need one." Rose concurred.
"Are there gonna be seagulls there?" Jade asked.
Rose smiled. "Of course, Jade!"
"Yay!"