Sylvain Oberlin woke up to the sound of EDM, the smell of grape swishers, and a naked woman asleep between her legs.
She was in – Arcata? Port Prince? Humboldt? She had a case of wanderlust and traveled up north. During her trip, she’d found a bar, then another, and then another. By the time she met the girl between her legs, Sylvain was already three sheets to the wind.
Who was this girl, anyway? Sylvain couldn’t remember. She was pale, a natural redhead. The woman was snoring. Sylvain shifted her weight, and the woman did not stir. She pulled her left leg free and rolled off the bed.
She padded across the floor, careful not to disturb. The music reverberated in her head, which only made her head feel a thousand times worse like there was a jackhammer digging through her skull. Her body ached. Her stomach churned and the last time she’d had this much cotton mouth, she’d at least had a damn good high.
What she needed was food. A hot shower. Sylvain needed to find her things and get out of this strange apartment.
She searched the bathroom for her clothes. There was nothing there, so she searched the rest of the apartment for her clothes. Her jeans were draped over the back of the couch. Her underwear had been tangled up with a red faux leather thong. Her bra hung from one of the kitchen cabinets. Shed managed to find everything but her shirt and socks, and her purse.
“Looking for this?”
Sylvain turned to see the ginger holding her shirt up. She smiled and walked back towards the bed, where the woman sat. She patted the space next to her, and Sylvain took a seat, at the foot of the bed.
“Thank you, lovely.” She said. The woman stared at Sylvain appraisingly.
“Last night was wonderful,” the redhead cooed. Sylvain offered her a light smile. It wasn’t that she didn’t think it wasn’t good. It was simply that she couldn’t remember. But she’d had enough one night stands to know how this worked.
“Yes, it was.” Sylvain lied. She leaned in and kissed the woman. Sylvain was hoping for a spark. Something wonderful. But the woman’s kisses were sloppy. They both had breath that smelled of alcohol and late night Taco Bell. Her stomach lurched at the thought of food.
Despite her lack of attraction, Sylvain didn’t want to throw up at this woman’s place. Sylvain looked anxiously towards the door.
“I’m so hungover,” the woman said, breaking through Sylvain’ thoughts. What was her name? What city was she in? How could she investigate without being obvious?
The ginger placed her head on Sylvain’ thigh. Sylvain sighed. She was feeling too shitty to have this broad hanging all over her.
“I’ve gotta go,” Sylvain said. She gently lifted the woman’s head from her lap. “I need to get back to Sagecrest, I’ve got work.”
“Oh, that’s right – you’re from Sagecrest. I forgot. Well, the train station is just around the corner. But I could use some food, do you want to get some grub? There’s a great dinner around the corner.” She asked. There was so much hope in her eyes Sylvain couldn’t stand it.
“I wish I could, but like I said, I’ve got work.” Sylvain did her best to look contrite.
The girl’s smile faltered.
“Oh, well. Another time? Next time you’re in Port Prince, you should look me up.”
Sylvain breathed a sigh of relief. So she was in Port Prince. That’s right, Sylvain thought. I came here with Lani. Lani. Where is Lani? Did I leave her at the club? Did she find a way home? Sylvain was feeling like a terrible friend, a drunk, and an all around shit show. And where the hell was her purse?
“Of course,” Sylvain said. “Let me get your number, as soon as I find my – oh, here it is.”
Her purse was nestled between the bed and the nightstand, along with an electric blue, cylinder-shaped toy. Her phone was buried at the bottom.
She typed in her password and grimaced. It was eight in the morning. She remembered passing out at four. Barely four hours of sleep. There was a message from Lani, letting her know that Sylvain was a horny cooze, that she’d taken the train all the way back to Sagecrest on her own, and that she was lucky they were best friends or else she’d be really, exceptionally pissed.
Her phone buzzed with another text from Lani.
“I hope the gingerbread tasted good.” It read.
Sylvain shook her head. It was too early for this shit, she thought.
“And what’s your last name? Sorry, I just have a few friends with the same name, and I don’t want to confuse them with you,”
The girl smiled, obviously feeling charmed.
“Sure. It’s Carpenter, and my name’s spelled Molli with an I, not a Y.”
Sylvain silently thanked a god. She punched in Molli’s number. She leaned in and kissed her one last time.
“See you later, Molli,” Sylvain said. She grabbed her purse and walked toward the door.
“Be careful of those Fair Folk.”
Sylvain froze, her fingers inches away from the door. She turned.
“What did you say?”
“Well, last night you told me you could see fairies. That there were some that were good, some bad. We were walking from the club and you saw some bad ones on the corner, and that’s why we came up to my place…well, one of the reasons.”
Sylvain nodded and smiled.
“Right, yeah. Thanks.”
She walked out and closed the door behind her without a second glance.
I’m never drinking again, she thought.