The more my head pounds, the more I keep remembering. And the more I remember, the more I want to forget. Calling Lola. Watching Lola snort cocaine. Slamming shots of Jack each time I craved cocaine. Slamming more Jack. Starting on my third bottle of Jack and realizing I couldn’t feel my lips but could still, in fact, see Ava’s face. Lola going down on me. Addison pushing Lola off me. Addison yelling at Lola. Me vomiting A LOT. Thinking I’ve died and gone to heaven when I awaken to Addison’s angelic face looking at me. Me trashing my apartment. Me feasting on Addison’s pussy. Fucking Ava into an oblivion. Realizing after my euphoria that I was, in fact, fucking Addison and not Ava. Remembering calling out Ava’s name. Witnessing the broken look on Addison’s face as the tears rolled down her face. I groan out loud at the memories that fill my mind. I’ve fucked up. I’ve fucked up badly. Feeling like somebody is watching me, I open my eyes.
