I stumble to the bathroom and step over the couple that passed out while making out to get to the sink. I try not to look at myself but my eye catches me in the mirror and I look back through red, watery eyes. My perfect facial ruined by runny purple liner and shadow. And vomit. It’s fine.

I clutch the sink as another wave hits. Nothing comes up this time. I’m fine. I wash my face and try to clean my dress. I wonder if your night was better than mine. I wonder why you haven’t called. I wonder where my charger is as I head back to my room.

My phone battery is beyond low, flashing a red exclamation. I check the room again for the charger but can’t find it anywhere. The room is kind of a mess. It’s fine. I will clean up in the morning. It’ll be fine.

I think about changing my clothes but tired, I lay down instead. It was a long night. A mediocre party. You didn’t come. It was fine. My phone vibes. I think it’s powering down, but I glance at the screen, I see it’s you. I grab the phone. The battery dies.