You just arrived. You were probably tired and looking forward to getting some sleep.

But, here I was, drunkenly sprawled on your bed, making it difficult for you to settle in.

You were supposed to arrive in the afternoon, but it seemed like circumstances changed, and so you were able to come earlier.

If I knew you'd arrive this morning, I wouldn't have gotten drunk last night. Or maybe I still would, but at least I would have made sure to sleep on my side of the room.

Although, thinking about it again, I only have half a brain cell that you have to hit to get working, so maybe I'd still do the same. Because, honestly, most of the time, I'm just an ungraceful piece of clay that breathes.

Despite my shortcomings, I really wanted to be a good roommate to you. I even crammed everything into one half of the dorm room already, so you can easily move in with your own stuff once you arrived.

Ruining your first day at the dorms has never crossed my mind. But, guess what, last night happened, and I'd say my remaining half of a brain cell just automatically died on me.

So, now, we came to this: Both of us struggling to fight off impending doom.

I hugged my ears and head as you screamed something intelligible, jolting me awake and immediately sending a pounding headache to the back of my brain.

I had to blink several times as my eyes tried to adjust from the bright light coming in from the window. Slowly, your unfamiliar figure came into sight, and the first thing I noticed was the annoyed expression on your face.

I groaned, grumbled, and complained, and you continued to make loud noises while harshly tugging at my arm.

"Go away," I mumbled.

You muttered something in response.

"What are you being so loud for?" I snorted, despite the throbbing pain in my head.

I saw your lips move, but my ears failed me. I rubbed the base of my neck, as if by doing so, I could somehow, miraculously, understand the message you wanted to convey.

To my surprise, you started to yank my arm, as if you planned to detach it from my shoulder. I tried to swat your hand away, but, instead, the back of my hand connected with something.

"Did you just slap me?" you roared, and I slightly expected a bolt of lightning and thunder to follow.

", you just slapped me!" you continued with the same intensity.

I thought my ears were about to split. I hugged my ears again, my body curling up into a ball.

"Hey, what are you doing? You're not gonna stay there forever, are you?"

I ignored you.

"Oh my god. This is insane."

You kept talking, and I rolled my eyes, despite myself. I just wanted to sleep in peace, but you wouldn't let me.

My last memory of the night was quite blurry.

I drank, I danced, I partied, feeling like some giant vibrating being, waving my hands in the air, my body pumping to the music.

At one point, I must have felt hungry since I could recall digging into a plate of steak. Other than that, it was just drinking and dancing.

I knew the memories of the previous night's drunken escapade would eventually come back later, the way they always do. But, for now, I had to make sure I survive the hangover.

When the noises died down, I risked cracking an eye open again. I scanned the room to look for you. You weren't in the room, but I saw some boxes that weren't there before.

I looked up and saw a familiar framed photo on the wall opposite me. I looked down, and—sheeet, my unmade bed was right there. So, that meant…

I bolted right up, which I shouldn't have done. My insides collided and did crazy things in my stomach. I felt it churning over and over. I knew what would happen next, but there was no way I could make it into the bathroom in time.

Without thinking much, I stood up and tried to get as far away as possible from the bed—your bed. Then, I heaved. Again and again and again.

"What the hell!?" The door opened, and you came in, your expression changing from confused to shocked to disgusted in just mere seconds.

I turned my gaze to the mess I just made. Well, I was right. I did eat steak last night.

One liter of energy drink later, I found myself sitting on the chair in front of my study table, staring into nothingness.

You went out again, probably to check if there was a way you could stay in another dorm room. That, or you went out to report me. I wouldn't be surprised if I suddenly get reprimanded for my unruly behavior.

It wasn't my intention to drink, let alone get drunk, but my older friends studying in the same university decided that it would be a good idea to celebrate at a nearby club to mark the start of my first year in campus.

Who am I to say no to that? I mean, they paid for it.

So, even though getting hammered the night before you arrived was the last thing I wanted to do, I still did it. As soon as the tequila shot appeared in front of me, my hand immediately went for it. Certainly, nobody forced me into anything.

After quite some ti