Call Me Vi | ONC 2024

Bacon and grapefruit. Those were the smells I awoke to the following morning, along with a headache that seared along my forehead and pounded behind one eye. I groaned, tilting my stiff neck to the side from where I'd fallen asleep. Someone had already opened the curtains; the sun now filtered in and washed the room in a bright glow.

"What the...?" My gaze scanned the room. A pink robe lay haphazardly on the ground in a rumpled heap, followed by the other pieces of fabric I'd last seen Violetta wearing the night before.

And from the bathroom, Violetta emerged, her body wrapped effortlessly in a fluffy white towel. It was twisted at the top in a way that kept it from falling down, something I never was able to achieve. Her wet auburn locks were tousled over her shoulders, and she balanced her phone between her cheek and her shoulder.

"Pancakes with almond butter," she was saying into the phone. "I've told you that three times already." A pause, then: "Yes, I know what my diet is and I don't care. That grapefruit tastes like ass."

I hid a smile behind my hand. At least that we could agree on.

"Whatever, Baxter," Violetta said. "Just bring me something that's not what showed up on my doorstep today." She jammed her finger against the 'end' button then looked at me. "You're staring again, Reagan."

Oh. A blush crept to my cheeks. "S-sorry."

Violetta waved her hand in my direction as she leaned onto the bed. "It's whatever. I'd much rather deal with you than..." she fluttered her fingers toward the window. "Life of a movie star, you know."

I nodded. Then my gaze landed on the cart with the half-eaten bacon and barely-touched grapefruit. "Did you order the room service under your name?" I asked, jumping up from the futon and wrapping myself in the blanket.

"Yeah, why?" she replied, bouncing on her knees.

I gestured around us. "Because you had it delivered to my room and I'm not going to pay for your special made-to-order breakfast."

Violetta rolled her eyes. "Chill out, I'm only using you for the room." She paused. "You know what I mean. Plus, you're the one who offered."

"To let you stay the night," I argued. "Because you were drunk and injured." Kind of. Glancing down at her foot, I could see it wasn't red anymore and she seemed to have walked across the floor with ease and no limp.

"Fine. When my publicist gets here later, I'll see about going back to my own room. Good riddance anyway." She crawled off the bed and slammed the bathroom door.

"That's where you wanted to be anyway, isn't it?" I called after her.

So not only was she a whiny drunk, she was also just plain mean sober.

Should I have expected anything less after yesterday?

With a groan, I quietly slipped out a fresh outfit for the day and exchanged out my pajamas after closing the curtains momentarily. Thankfully, Violetta stayed in the bathroom while I changed.

Then I took my phone to the balcony to video chat with Hayden.

"Lookie, it's my favorite vacationer!" Hayden greeted me, shaggy hair and bare chest visible.

I grinned. "Hey, bestie. How are you faring on this fine Friday morning?"

He chuckled. "Mad that I can't be there on vacation with you. How's Asheville?"

My face must've given it all away because he added, "That bad, huh? You know there's a reason why we take vacations. It's so that we don't experience work-withdrawal."