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Gregor slowly blinked himself awake. The light was much too bright and his head was pounding. He groaned and ran his hands through his hair. He was immediately shocked awake. What happened to my hair!? He sat up and his head screamed. He glanced over to see a glass of water and two aspirin, someone had some sense last night. He reached for the glass, he knew that the person that left the items was definitely not him. He rubbed his temples and willed the daggers behind his eyes to stop stabbing at him. He heard voices coming from the living room. His flatmates were up and about, perhaps they could fill in the gaps. He snorted, gaps - he remembered nothing about last night. He got up and looked in the mirror - holy hell who cut my hair with a lawn mower?! Why am I wearing my painting overalls with my green dress shirt ? He sighed and changed his clothes but his hair was fucked. He reluctantly opened his bedroom door to hear what his roommates had to say about the night before.

 

“Then you laughed and ate another mushroom!”

“Then you took Bobby’s homemade Absinthe and took a swig”

“That shite has double the allowed thujone content.”

“We thought you were going to die”

“But instead you got really weird and mellow.”

 

Gregor sat and listened to his mates tell the tale of the night before. Instead of a fearless bridge painter, he was “Gregor the artist”. Even more so, a sculptor. Apparently, he was carrying around an old rugby ball, caressing it and told people that it was his creation and he loved it more than life itself.

 

“It got creepy, mon.”

“You were nuzzling it.”

“Kissing it”

“Whispering to it”

 

Gregor learned that when his friends told him that the love of his life was merely a rugby ball,he got angry and ran into the bathroom. He was in there for quite a while and when he emerged they noticed he cut his own hair, took the locks and stuck them to the ball with hairspray. It was a sticky mess and he insisted that because the ball grew hair that it was real and they had to call the ball his girlfriend.

 

His girlfriend! “Was Emilia here?” He dreaded hearing the answer.

 

“She was madder than hell!”

“It was hysterical!”

“You were kissing a rugby ball and there were flames coming out of her eyes!”

“You are definitely in hot water, mate”

Gregor groaned. This was not supposed to be the way the week ended. He was going to take Emilia out tonight, he was going to ask her to move in with him, and he was going to leave these idiots he called his friends. Instead, he managed to fall in love with a rugby ball, cut his own hair, humiliate himself, and his girlfriend.

A moment later Ewan came up to him smiling, holding a rugby ball with curly chopped up hair stuck haphazardly over it.

“Bloody hell,” Gregor groaned.

 

10 minutes later he was back in his room calling Emilia on her mobile. He had to beg forgiveness for much longer than he thought was necessary but she finally relented and agreed to have dinner with him at her favorite restaurant. Gregor showered and did the best he could do with his hair. He wore his best outfit and her favourite aftershave too. As he was leaving the flat, he picked up the offending rugby ball, “Our relationship is over,” he growled as he opened the garbage chute and shoved it down the hole.