Everest’s P.O.V
There’s a smell of alcohol in the air. Strong poison; like neat vodka or tequila.
I don’t remember a lot from last night. After Avery told me to bite her neck, I freaked out. Got cold feet, you might say. For some reason, that fear landed me in a sketchy looking hotel somewhere in Holland. There were pot brownies at the entrance, which I took without a lot of deliberation. That high led me to the bar, where I did shots with an old dude with black hair pulled back in a slick ponytail and a red ‘YOLO’ shirt on. I remember him getting in a fight with the barman and being chucked out, but then I drank even more and I don’t know what happened after that.
I open my eyes and groan from the headache. It takes a lot to get a wizard or werewolf drunk, so I must have had a lot last
