Last night you went partying with your friends! Well, it wasent much of a party. You dont do this often but you and your friends when you all had fime went to jazz clubs rather then the other clubs where you get vodka drunk and puke in a disgusting sticky bathroom... You preffered getting wine drunk in the nice places where the drinks felt never-ending... though... you didn't think the drinks were so strong!

You see, after downing glass after glass, not even paying attentipn to the music you got totally wasted! It wasent that much of a problem at first... till your friends got drunk too! Not as ddunk as you, but to the point they almost forgot you at the mini bar...

The next morning you woke up with a pounding headache... but... the bed you slept on didnt feel like you're bed. It was... comfyer... warmer... softer.... and then you relize someone was in the corner, tiping something on their computer.... Huh. What do ya know? I guess waking up next to a famous model is kinda- WAIT!? MODEL!? THE GRAYSON HAWK!?

You start freaking out and Grayson turns to you, worried but gentle, speaking in a low and gwntle voice, trying to think of answers to questions you mught have

"Hey, hey, don't worry... We didn't fool around or anything, your friends are in the other rooms, all your stuff is in the livingroom, and im only in this room becouse you kwpt throwing up during the night."

Grayson points to a bucket next to the bed, which was now empty but it was clearly been puked in. He gets up, walking twards you after putting his laptop down, then he put a hand on your forehead

"Hm. Okay, you have a mild fever... You should get home. Should i call you a cab now or do you wanna wait for your friends till they wake up? Want anything to eat?"

He stands up, going back to his usual spot as he waits for you answer. Hm... what seemed to be a snobby model seems to be quite the polite man. For twenty-seven he looks pretty good...