TEXTS FROM LAST NIGHT

[sanjunipero]

TEXTS FROM LAST NIGHT

Have a little too much to drink last night and send that embarrassing text to your ex?

Did you party a little too hard and send pictures of the wild night... to all of your contacts?

Was 3am when you dusted off the number of that old flame and confessed how much you wanted them back?

Or simply catching up on the adventures that drunk you got into?

Just because heaven is a place on earth at San Junipero doesn't mean it's without any consequence. Be careful checking your phone in the morning, it might have some weird texts from last night.

MAY BE NSFW

Comments

Veronica Lodge | Permanent

[sophistication]

1. Is it bad to have four different guys toothbrushes in your bathroom? Asking for a friend.
2. I'm full of champagne and rage, of course I'm showing up at his house.
3. Why did 20 jello shots in a row sound like a good idea last night?
4. You were so drunk that when you dropped your fruit roll-up on the floor, you just sat next to it and cried.
5. [ choose your own ]

4

[unaffluent]

Did you help me?

[sophistication]

i didn't let you eat it off the floor, if that counts as helping?

[unaffluent]

I dunno.

3

[im_ironman]

Because it generally is.

Until the next morning.

[sophistication]

It is easily the Worst Idea Ever the next morning.

You don't happen to have any good hangover remedies, do you?

5

[fucking_kavinsky]

I had a rough night. I'm just gonna lay out here and masturbate for a while before I have to go

[sophistication]

Please tell me that by 'out here' you don't mean somewhere in my house.

[fucking_kavinsky]

im assuming it is
ur the hot tits who gave me her # last night
i mean we could just bang instead

[sophistication]

You'd have a lot better shot at that if you used my actual name, rather than something douche-y like hot tits.

[fucking_kavinsky]

but thats wut it says in my phone
hot. tits. and your #
not my fault

[sophistication]

Whose fault is it then?
I didn't put myself in your phone that way.

[fucking_kavinsky]

u mudtv not given me a name.
if ur tits are hot thats a good thing btw

[sophistication]

I doubt that. You probably don't remember.

I never said it wasn't. There's just better things to call a lady.

[fucking_kavinsky]

i mean shit ok
u fuckin got me there
rough night remember?

ok lady, let me in and u can tell me ur name

[Bitch would probably suffice, but he'd rather get laid than jerk off on her porch ]

[sophistication]

A little rougher than others.

[ She debates it for a long, long while. If she'd already gone home with the boy in question, then there was really no harm in letting him back inside, right?

But, there was always the possibility that he was just some creep who had followed her home from the bar and fallen asleep on her porch. ]

Okay.

[ Why not? Veronica's tough enough to handle herself. Rolling out of her bed, she throws on a brightly floral patterned silk robe, tying the sash loosely around the middle as she crosses the room to open her door, her expression spectacularly unimpressed as she looks over the boy standing there. ]

[fucking_kavinsky]

coulda been worse tho, im betting

[ She doesn't text back for a while and the sun is starting to come up, which kinda makes Kavinsky want to either puke or drink more, or just lay here and do what he said he was going to do. He's got his hand halfway down his pants when she texts back and he smirks, rolling off the porch furniture and going to stand at her door.

He lost his shoes at some point, so he's barefooted, in a pair of purple swim trunks and a loose white muscle tank, his hair standing up on end ]

Yo. You wanna do shots? Let's do shots.

[sophistication]

[ Veronica eyes the boy for a few long moments before stepping to the side and inviting him inside with nothing more than a wave of her hand. Her memory from the previous night is.... fuzzy, at best. Too many drinks at one bar, then even more at another, rounding the entire night out with a final round at Tucker's before apparently retiring home with this stranger who can't remember her name.

(Not that she remembers his either.) ]

Shots? It's [ She looks at a clock hanging on the wall. 6:38AM. ] six-thirty in the morning. [ But she can already feel the start of a hangover -- maybe a little hair of the dog wouldn't hurt. ]

[fucking_kavinsky]

[ He heads into the house like he belongs there, then turns to get a good look at her. Well fuck him, she's hot. Minus the grandma robe but hell, he can get that off easy. She doesn't even look all that hung over which is a good thing, because there's nothing Kavinsky hates more than ugly clingy bitches this early in the morning ]

Oh, you must be new .Time doesn't fucking matter here, lady.

[He doesn't ask her what her name is either, cause he doesn't really care just yet. Maybe if she's a good lay, or if she's fun to hang with, but the verdict is still out on that one]

You got shit to do today, or something?

[sophistication]

[ She's a little shocked by how he just waltzes on into her home as though he's been there a thousand times before. Like he's one of Veronica's old friends, rather than someone that she doesn't even recognize. She lifts a hand to massage her temples for a few short seconds before carding her fingers through her hair. ]

Veronica. [ She finally corrects him. She's already over all these little alternative names he has for her. ]

No. I just don't usually start in on the hard liquor until after breakfast. Call me old fashioned.

[fucking_kavinsky]

[ If she's shocked by that, then she's going to be even more shocked by the way he walks backwards while she's telling him her oh so prissy name, until he finds a couch and drapes himself all over it. ]

Ah, much fucking better. Your porch furniture fucking sucks, Veronica. You got a short for that? It's a fucking mouthful.

[He makes a face like he's never heard of such a thing.]

Hard liquor for breakfast guarantees you a great fucking day. No worries and shit like that. Come on, aren't you feeling it? Grab a bottle, we don't even need shot glasses.

[sophistication]

[ A normal person probably would have replied back with their own name, but she's quickly realizing that the boy she's let inside isn't at all a normal person. Maybe she hadn't hooked up with him at all, maybe he really was just some creep who had stumbled onto her porch, and was now in her house.

Great going, Roni.

He sprawls out over her couch and Veronica just about loses it. ]

Okay, Jersey Shore, as much as I'm enjoying this Reunion Special, let's backtrack just a little, okay? [ Turning on her heels, she moves to the kitchen, and rather than hard liquor she pulls out a carafe of orange juice from the fridge and a bottle of champagne from out of a cabinet.

Mimosas. Now that's a drink for sunrise. ]

Now, which dysfunctional cast member are you? Pauly? Vinnie? Ronnie?

[fucking_kavinsky]

[ Well, she's not kicking him off the couch, so that's a start. Though if she's one of those hardasses, he'll probably be out of here before she can start bitching at him anyway. For now though, he can tolerate this level of female voice.

Plus. She really is fucking hot and it's so tiring to browse through all the wannabe hot people at San Junipero who he can tell aren't really hot. He laughs when she brings up Jersey Shore because man, if she only knew how close to true that is.]

You mean you don't already fucking know my name? I'm truly shocked. I mean, you gave me your number and everything.

[You know. Since she was giving him shit about not knowing hers and all. Also, because he's fucking Kavinsky, so maybe she really is new here.]

[sophistication]

[ Veronica goes about getting a pair of clean glasses and then carries everything over to where the boy in seated on her couch, pushing his legs out of the way with a quiet 'move.' as she brushes by him to sit on the opposite end of the couch. ]

I knew it last night, I'm sure but half-priced tequila shots really does a number on my memories. You know how that goes, right? [ She fills the two glasses with both champagne and orange juice, holding one out to him with a grin. ]

[fucking_kavinsky]

[ He scrunches his face in mild annoyance that he actually has to move, even though she does most of it for him by knocking his legs off. Honestly, she could have sat between them, or on them, like whatever. ]

Names Kavinsky. I'm telling you cause you're hot, and you probably have hot friends. Try not to forget it this time.

[ Kavinsky can't remember the last time he had champagne, but alcohol is alcohol so he takes the offered glass and drinks some down. ]

Christ, this shit is like a fucking fruit smoothie. You wanna go a little heavier on the alcohol? [He holds his glass back out]