Faded (Rock Star Trilogy)

sure where that is.
    Where am I?
    I don’t have time to think about it. I find the bathroom and run toward the toilet. I barely make it before I vomit up any remnants of last night’s alcohol. Just as I think I’m almost done, more comes up.
    How much did I drink last night?
    After I finally stop puking my guts up, I walk to the bathroom sink and splash cold water on my face. It’s then that I notice I have a ring on my left hand. Upon closer inspection, I see that it is just a cheap plastic ring. I sigh in relief. For a second I thought I did something stupid, like get married. Even when I’m wasted out of my mind, I’m too smart to do something stupid like that.
    What did I do last night? I have no idea. I remember doing tequila shots and karaoke. I remember we were going to walk back to the hotel, but that is where things got fuzzy.We obviously didn’t make it back to the hotel… I think maybe we played poker, but I’m not sure. It feels like maybe poker was just a dream, because it’s all so fuzzy.
    My head hurts from thinking. I decide that I will just have to ask Stephan. Certainly he remembers. Or at least I hope he does.
    Somehow I find the strength to walk out of the bathroom. The room that we are in is definitely not the room we were staying in at The Palms. The room is small. There is a flat screen television sitting on a nightstand, and one king size bed. Stephan is currently passed out on that bed. The carpet is an ugly shade of green with patterns of pink and yellow swirled around. There is also half a bottle of vodka sitting on a table in the corner that I don’t remember buying.
    I look down at myself. All of my clothes are on, and for that I am thankful. It means that Stephan and I didn’t have sex. I didn’t want our first time to be when I’m drunk. I want to remember every second of heated passion.
    I look around the room for my phone, but then I remember I left it at the hotel. I didn’t want Bob to wake up and call me. I didn’t want him to know where I was. I just needed one normal night off with Stephan. Now, I’m kind of wishing that we had brought him with us. If we would’ve, maybe I wouldn’t have drunk so much.
    Why do I get the feeling that I did something stupid? What if people took pictures? Ugh, I can already see the headlines. Scarlett is out of control. Scarlett refuses rehab. Fame is too much for Scarlett to handle. Why did I allow myself to drink so much?
    I just want my head to stop pounding .
    I climb onto the bed beside Stephan, just as he starts to wake up. His eyes are glassy, and I’m pretty sure he’s still a little bit drunk. Maybe I am too.
    “How much did I drink last night?” I ask him.
    “Inside voice,” he whispers back, and then massages his forehead. “I have never drank so much alcohol in my life.”
    I have, but I’ll just keep that bit of information to myself. I’m disappointed in myself. I thought I could do a couple shots and not get shit-faced. I was wrong. I obviously have no self-control. And worst of all, Stephan saw me like that. I never wanted him to see that side of me.
    “Do you remember last night?” I whisper to him. I’m hoping that he remembers more than I do, which is basically nothing .
    “Somewhat. We did karaoke, played poker… and…and…” He pauses. “It’s a little fuzzy, but I think… Oh my God…”
    “What?” I’m scared to ask. If I did something stupid, it could ruin my career. And just when I was finally getting everything I wanted.
    “I think we got married.”
    I laugh, because what he is saying has to be a joke. And maybe I’m still drunk too. I would never laugh at that under normal circumstances, because it’s not funny. Maybe he’s saying that, because I did something really stupid, and I’ll be so relieved that we aren’t married that it will seem less horrible in perspective. “Yeah, right. I’m hung over and now is not the time to joke. What really happened?”
    “I’m not joking,” he quickly says. “It’s coming back to me now. I remember… After poker I told you that I love you, and then you said something like I was supposed to say it on our wedding day, or something… And I agreed with you. We had to fix it. And then I remember going to the chapel, and I bought you a plastic ring.”
    I hold up my left hand. “This plastic ring?”
    He nods.
    My stomach feels sick again.
    “I remember paying the Elvis impersonator, and I remember saying our vows.” Stephan runs