PHOENIX

 

 

I was used to having a hangover for months since my disastrous relationship with Samantha, but I groan as I feel my stiff body for being curled up long. I sit up straight on the couch and begin rubbing the back of my aching neck.

I look around the small living room of her apartment, nothing to see other than the boring cream-colored wall, a flat tv screen, a set of couches, and a black glass coffee table.

The memories of last night are ambiguous to me, except that I remember pissing off the security guard, and how Samantha helped my drunkass up into her apartment.

She was still...