THIRD PERSON'S P.O.V
There were plenty of ways to cure a hangover, and Bryan was familiar with a few of them -- thanks to his mad partying skills. However, none of them included an early morning wake up call.
Someone was pounding on the door of his hotel room, and he certainly wasn't too pleased about it. With his bitch of a hangover, a body cracked in pain, a hundred creases on his designer shirt, and something sticky on his hair that made him let out a sigh of disgust -- he was in no mood to greet the blinding light of the day and whoever it was at the door. But when an arm settled on his torso and the fingers brushed against his -- all his sleepiness had disappeared faster than one could say shit.
