I was so drunk last weekend to the point of passing out for some unexplainable reason. Alright, let me at least try telling you.
I'm sure at some point before we have our iPads and Macbooks, we've all been drowned by pestilential virus in our PCs. Remove and all, we did try our best including thousands of tools from the very same websites that gave these parasites. But they just keep coming back, yes? And just when you thought you finally eradicated these morons, there it is, sheepishly sitting comfortably in our PC system, breeding every second ticking.
That's what happened. A virus which I thought I already deleted on my system, continue to persist, glaring arrogantly at me after months and months of hardwork and resistance. I just couldn't understand how it happened. So I let the vile of booze and wine went all the way inside my gastritic system. Another virus, yes.
It was not really my intention, to be honest. A beer tower just appeared out of nowhere while we're dining at Gerry's grill, Saturday night. The girls came. The boys did, too. Partyphiles are messaging left and right and we gave in. I gave in.
At 1 am, I was already drunk. We tripped to Eastwood and continued the party. I was leaning at the back of Angela's car on our way not noticing this guy beside. He was Angela's classmate in college we'll call him by the name Preston.
I was half annoyed, half amused by his interrogations about my job. He's a communication graduate too but as he said, not fortunate enough to land a job inside the industry. He's a call center agent of some sort.
At first, I thought he was just trying to break the ice but as we trash the dancefloor in Circa, I realised the dude wanted a fuck for the night. And I'm his target. I'm his fuck.
My phone was ringing off the hook courtesy of my mother. Yes, I was drunk, but I kinda know she won't sleep well not until I get home. I must admit I wasn't able to tell her I'll be going home late. So I told my friends I need to go home and asked if someone could drive me to Cubao where I could hail an FX to Malolos. As with any good friend who wants to keep company for the party, no one bothered to.
So we went to some odd place, a shady condo somewhere in Makati and the party heats up. Preston shared some doobi which I declined at first. I haven't tasted that shit since high school, my darkest years. But he won't take no for an asnwer. He bit my ear, licked my neck and went on with my bitter lips. The doobi triggered everything. I just got wilder and wilder and I couldn’t control myself anymore. And the rest, of course, is history.
But the "horror" came late Sunday morning. I woke with a jolt. I'm wearing a white shirt and a blue striped boxers, lying in a unfamiliar bed. And the worst of it, Preston was beside me ...naked from waist up.
I quickly got up and looked for my clothes. Apparently, Preston was awake and spoke.
"Hey, are you going?"
"Angela said she'll pick you up. Why don't you wait for her?"
Everything flashed back and it hit me. Angela promised we'll sleep in her apartment. While trying to suit up quietly, I was screaming curses for my very thoughtful friend for dumping me in this stranger's bed. And what the hell happened? Why am I not wearing my clothes? Questions drowned me. Did we have sex? Am I devirginized by this bloke? F*ck, what if he gave me HIV. F*ck! F*ck! F*ck!
"Can you even remember me?" he asked at the middle of all these thoughts. He chuckled.
"We partied last night, right? But I must admit I can't remember your name. Peter?"
He laughs. I'm actually a sucker for name. And birthdays. And other important dates.
"Preston. And you're DB."
"I know I am. Listen, I'm sorry but I really have to go. Thank you for letting me crash in."
"It's nothing. Friends naman na tayo since friend mo si Angela and friend ko din siya college pa lang. That makes us officially friends," he declared.
I'm starting to feel better. I know I'm okay and by checking, somehow, I confirmed nothing against my normal mind happened. I felt no discomfort and everything was just my usual paranoia.
"Do you want to have coffee first? I'll make some," he blurted with his left brow slightly inching up.
I studied his proposal staring at his bare chest. The sight might not be tempting enough but the idea of coffee after a night of shits sounds irresistible. But I know if I agreed upon his invitation, it would lead onto something I'm avoiding in the first place.
So my dear readers, what do you guys think DB did? Did he dive again to the boy’s bed, this time fully conscious or did he keep his vow of chastity and quietly went home? Take your wild guess at the comment section. For a few special people, your answer might make or break our friendship so don’t fret!
Kidding. Nothing you’ll say will be used against you.