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

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]

[sophistication]

[ Veronica sends him A Look when he introduces himself. ] And Veronica is a mouthful? [ Followed shortly by a roll of her eyes. ] Thanks, I'll tell all of my hot friends that I'm on a first-name basis with Kavinsky.

[ She sips from her own glass in content silence before Kavinsky offers up his complaint and she lets out an exasperated sigh, setting her glass down on the small table situated right at the end of the couch. ] Something heavier on the alcohol? Seriously? Okay, then.

[ Veronica pushes herself off the couch in one fluid movement, crossing the room to return to the kitchen. ] What do you want, Kavinsky? [ She laughs softly, opening the cabinet that holds all of her liquor. ]

[fucking_kavinsky]

Call me K. Whatever the fuck. I'll call you V. [He smirks, before making a V with his fingers in front of his mouth and sticking his tongue out between them] Good call. They'll thank you for it later.

[God damn, she's so fussy. Not the worst, though, so he deals. The couch is pretty comfy and when she turns, he can definitely see a good amount of tits. That helps too]

I meant more champagne, but shit, if you've got something stronger, bring it here. Vodka's good.

[sophistication]

[ She's spectacularly unimpressed by Kavinsky, looking away from her cabinet of liquor to meet his gaze. ] Veronica [ She corrects with a roll of her eyes before grabbing the first open bottle of vodka she finds -- something averagely priced, not too cheap and not too expensive. A smooth finish with a very minimal bite. -- and returning to the couch. ]

Here. Now it's yours. [ She hands the bottle over to him as she takes a seat, this time stretching her legs out over his lap. ] So, K, how exactly did you end up on my front porch?

[fucking_kavinsky]

[Everyone is eventually very impressed with Kavinsky, so he'll give it some time. They're both too hungover to appreciate shit anyway, although he's really appreciating her ass in that robe. ]

Seriously? No one calls you anything for short?

[He snags the bottle and opens it up, taking a long sip. That's more like it. He legs all over his lap? Even better]

I fuckin woke up here, what do you think?

[sophistication]

They do. [ She gives one quick, curt nod before offering Kavinsky the biggest shit-eating grin that she can manage from over the rim of her glass. ] But you don't.

[ Veronica watches him take a swig from the bottle as though the contents inside of it were nothing more than water -- inwardly, she's entertaining the idea of trying that if he ever ends up hungover on her porch again. It would at least be entertaining.

Her eyes roll at his response. ] Yes, I came to that conclusion without your help, surprisingly. But why were you sleeping there? Don't you have a porch of your own to pass out on? [ Taking a sip from her glass, she idly taps at one of Kavinsky's ribs with her foot. ]

[fucking_kavinsky]

Wow, so fucking hurtful, V.

[He puts his hand against his heart in a mocking gesture. Well, she's new, so he doesn't blame her for not knowing that the more she wants him not to do something, the more he'll do it.

It's a fine line of drunk and hungover all damn day, so there is a chance he will definitely end up on her porch again, if only just to piss her off or amuse himself]

You must've invited me here, sweetcheeks. It all gets kinda fuzzy after 4am. [He flicks her foot, but lets it do whatever it wants] Or maybe I was boning the girl next door. You got a sister?