Knock, knock, knock.

I began to stir, as the tapping on the door got louder and louder.

"Come in," I called out, not even bothering to open my eyes. My head was killing me, my mouth dry and tasted like cigarettes and beer. I heard the door open and someone came into what I guessed was a room. I could feel a duvet over me, and a pillow beneath my head, but I didn't know whose room I was in.

"How are you feeling?" Chase called out in a quiet voice.

"Not good. My head is killing me. What happened last night?" I asked as I sat up in the...