Greg groaned as the sharp stab of light pierced through his eyelids. His head throbbed with the dull, punishing rhythm of a hangover, and his mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton.
What's worse than being awakened by a loud ringtone while having a hangover?
He blindly reached for his phone, swiping until Cammy's name glowed on the screen.
"Cammy?" he rasped, his voice thick with sleep and regret.
[Hey… sorry, did I wake you up?]
He sat up slowly, wincing as a wave of nausea swirled through him. "Kinda," he admitted, dragging a hand down his face. "But it is okay. How are you?"
[I'm fine. I was wondering... if it's alright for us to talk. In your suite.]
Greg's mind stuttered for a moment, trying to piece together the request through the fog in his brain. "Uh... yeah, of course. I will get ready then."
"Okay. We're on my way."
