The Hangover Phil Novels & Stories

His forehead banging hard and stinging him, he robbed across his head hoping it will reduce the headache. He had too much alcohol the last night and had a heavy hangover to deal with, more than a strange lady on his bed. “Hey!” Bryan jacked this lady again, but there was no response, neither did she move an inch. His heart that almost fell out of his chest sat in a bit when he saw that she had clothes on and his trousers was on. Struggling with his hangover and getting the ‘manequin-human’ to speak was really stressing him

He completely took my mind off Aiden and Anna and made me enjoy the movie and before I knew it, the movie ended and my stomach aching from laughing so hard. "I've never seen a movie this good," I said, feeling kind of lightheaded from laughing so hard. "You should see the hangover too, it was so damn good, we should see it sometimes," He said as we walked out of the room first, talking non-stop about the scenes laughing so loud all the way, completely getting lost in the moment, my mouth ran a mile, talking out freely like I never before when I once again heard the train sound from behind, turning my attention to it.

My stomach clenched in protest, already warning me that if I swallowed too much of this, I might spend the whole night in the bathroom. Still, I swallowed it down, forcing a tight smile. I didn’t want to hurt Vanessa’s pride, not when she has at least tried. Phil, however, was staring at me, his lips twitching as if he was about to burst into laughter at any second. “Gosh! What the hell is this?” Phil blurted the second he put the food in his mouth. His face scrunched up like he had just tasted poison. Before I could stop him, he grabbed a napkin and spat the food right into it.

The last thing I remember was El shooting ; Maxwell , me and an unsuspecting Daniel. I woke up in the morning with a hangover from hell. I was still in the onesie that I was wearing and when I looked up Daniel was under the couch the fastest to sleep so I looked at my watch and it was already 9 a.m. in the morning. I didn't have anything planned and after all that was Friday what else could we do besides chill. I was supposed to be on holiday but I'm not sure why not just have fun. I was doing a mental scan of my body here when Daniel woke up. I knew that he had broken up because he too was groaning and it wasn't paying because he had a hangover. They say that the good stuff doesn't give you

he said, not angry—amused by the universe’s insistence on its favourite joke. Michelle didn’t look at him. “He’s the wrong kind to die easy.” “Do you miss him?” Phil asked, faux-casual. Michelle’s human eye didn’t blink. “Do you?” Phil smiled. “I miss what he made of me.” On the third screen, a white dot moved across a black river: a police escort that had been ash a week ago. On the fourth, a face recognition tag pinged on a marina: a big man with a sloop and a past. Michelle’s head tilted.

POV: Connor Hangovers at Northpoint aren’t just a consequence—they’re biblical. It’s the kind of punishment that makes you want to call your mother and apologize for everything you’ve ever done, even the stuff you haven’t gotten caught for. My mouth tastes like stale beer and regret. My head feels like a hockey team used it as a shooting target. Light stabs me right in the eyes, a personal vendetta from the sun itself, and my phone is buzzing with more notifications than a Vegas slot machine on a hot streak.