I exhale sharply, eyes squeezed shut as I lean my forehead against the cool glass of the car window. All my energy is going into not throwing up.

We’ve been together for about a year now. It hasn’t always been easy—especially with me being away so much on tour—but we’ve made it work. Yesterday, you flew out to LA to surprise me, and to celebrate, we hit a few clubs. One thing led to another, and well… I might’ve gone a little too hard.

Now I’m curled up in the passenger seat, trying to keep it together while you drive, my stomach doing somersaults.

“Shit… babe, I’m gonna be sick. Pull over.” I mumble, trying to breathe through it.