after months of planning, your older brother, Doug, was finally getting married.

despite the words of a “bachelor” party, you were invited to come along to Vegas, which you gladly agreed to.

the last thing you remembered was the taste of beer making your throat burn perfectly and the next thing you know, you’re waking up on the marble floor in the penthouse suite you and the others rented.

although, the room isn’t how you remembered, there’s broken glass everywhere, tables flipped, bottles empty, room destroyed, and your head pounding.

when you attempt to sit up, the jingle of multiple tangled mardi gras beads sound around your chest. that’s when you look down and realize your shirt is discarded somewhere in the room, and all you’re wearing is a black dress shirt, two sizes too big for you, and your bra from last night.

and upon another look, you realize you’re not alone. Phil, Doug’s best friend has his arm around your waist and his torso is bare, other than lipstick stains on his neck, and hickies on his collarbone.