Chapter Text
You wouldn’t say you were hungover. At the same time, your body was not very happy about trying to metabolize the sheer amount of alcohol you consumed at the party the night before. So while you weren’t hungover, you were not NOT hungover.
Oh gawd...
You seriously were not twenty-one anymore, that was for sure.
Judging from the lack of cars on North Avenue, you guessed that the other residents of Wicker Park had a similar night. As you pulled your car up into a spot next to the Starbucks, you briefly reached for some change before you remembered it was Sunday.
Many boasted that nothing could beat a summer near the Great Lakes and while the late morning air still was warm and summerlike, Memorial Day weekend had come and gone. You could already see several trees beginning to change color.
To further prove that the last remnants of summer were fading, you took note of the foreboding grey clouds that were rolling in from Lake Michigan in the east. More than likely it was going to bring in a cold front and autumn would officially begin for Chicago. The arrival of autumn meant one thing: Winter was coming.
Fantastic, you groaned as you rubbed your tired eyes and headed for the door of Starbucks. On the way in, you spotted a small dog tied up outside and took a moment to pet him (or her) before heading inside. You needed caffeine.
And water. Water would be absolutely amazing right now. Why had you not drank more water before you left?
After placing your order with the barista, you meekly asked for a cup of water. To pass the time while your caffeinated sugary concoction was being made, you perused the selection of energy drinks, yogurt parfaits, and various juices. You picked up a Defense Up and flipped it over to read the nutritional information.
It would help the not-not hangover, but was it worth the price? A quick check at the menu made you put the juice back in its proper spot. No. No it was not worth the price.
Ugh...Fuck grad school. You weren’t this poor during your undergrad! Then again, you amended, you had the GI Bill to fall back on while you were working on your undergraduate degree. That had been nice.
While waiting for your drink, you pulled out your phone to text your friend. Last night, you two had talked about wanting to see the Nameless Pharaoh Unearthed exhibit before it left the Field Museum. You had made plans to go the next morning and get some lunch afterwards. Initially, you had figured your friend would forget, but you were awoken to a text at 8am, inquiring whether or not the plans were still on.
Hell yes they were! Effects of alcohol on your early to mid twenties body be damned!
Just about to leave Starbucks. ETA in like, 20 mins.
Your order was completed shortly after hitting the Send button. Before grabbing your drink, you took a long swallow from your water. The first few gulps of your overly caffeinated beverage was sheer bliss. You thanked the baristsa like they were your new lord and savior. Because, yeah. At this moment, they kind of were.
The barista calling out "Feel better" as you left let you know that they knew you looked as hungover as you felt. Not that you were actually hungover or anything....
Much to your chagrin, the dog was gone by the time you got back outside. While walking to your car, you could not help but frown. You were inside for about five minutes and in that time, the cloud coverage increased significantly.
You didn’t know much about meteorology, but those were some fast-moving clouds. Without a doubt, it was going to storm soon and you hoped that it would hold off until you got inside the museum. Especially because you were planning on parking further away from the Field Museum in order to avoid paying the ridiculous parking rates.
Honestly, you knew you probably should have bitten the proverbial bullet and called Uber or dealt with the CTA. However, you were not feeling like dealing with people until you had your coffee. So you drove, like the not NOT hungover moron you were.
You also wanted the convenience of slowly getting ready at your own leisurely pace. Dealing with the CTA meant it would take much longer for you to get to the Field.
Thankfully the Bears weren’t playing at home, or there would be no way you could get within five miles of the area.
By the time you were actually standing on the front steps of the Field Museum, you clicked your tongue impatiently while holding your phone to your ear and watching the darkening sky with a 'Don't even think about raining' stare. You immediately lost signal as soon as you got inside, so it was standing outside for you. Within the past half hour, the sky had darkened significantly and was now accompanied by a fog thick enough to cause the street lights to come on. With the wind beginning to pick up, the entire city of Chicago was beginning to look like Silent Hill and you just wanted to get inside before it started downpouring.
At least you had the foresight to grab your hoodie that had been sitting in the backseat of your car all summer. You were kinda lazy and kept forgetting to bring it inside.
You clicked your tongue once more as you listened to your friend’s voicemail. When prompted to, you began to talk. “Hi, it’s me. Just wondering where you are. I’m standing outside and would really rather not be right now. Hopefully you’re inside or something and can’t hear your ph--”
A beep alerted you to the fact you were receiving an incoming call. Sliding your finger over to the Answer icon, you once more held your phone up to your ear. “Hey,” you greeted the aforementioned friend. “Where are you?”
As your friend apologetically said your name, you frowned. You had a feeling what was coming...
“I um...feel back asleep.”
You freaking knew it!
Mentally, you were screaming. Although your friend could not see your facial expression, you had already schooled your face to look as pleasant as possible. “Okay. Soo...did you still want to go see the exhibit today?”
You friend must have caught the fact you were trying to mask your annoyance. Or maybe you were just doing a really poor job of it. You didn’t know. In spite of your best efforts, your head still weird, making your thoughts all muddled. “I am really sorry. It’s looking super spooky out there. I am not feeling too great right now...I drank too much last night to really do this today."
Although you wanted scream and rant over how you had woken up on time to shower, put enough makeup on to ensure you did not look like you spent your night haunting houses, and managed to get coffee before showing up relatively on time, you just managed to say, “Okay.”
“I really miss seeing you!” Your friend insisted. “You’re always so busy with school. So just let me know when you’re free and I’ll buy you dinner to make up for it.”
“Okay,” you said once again. You weren’t in the mood to deal with this right now, so you decided to lie. “Look, it’s starting to rain. I need to get going. I’ll text you.”
Once the conversation was over, you leaned against the railing of the giant steps leading up to the museum and sighed heavily. Running a hand through your hair, you watched as cars and taxis moved about the street while you debated whether or not to just go home.
Briefly you heard a snippet of a conversation to your immediate left. Out of curiosity, you tilted your head to look. While you didn’t understand what was being said, tones were almost universal and the guy sounded as pissed off as you were.
The man in question was tall and even on a Sunday afternoon, he was dressed very professionally. This was America and people towering above your petite frame never merited even a second thought. Yet the guy was more than tall, his presence was commanding. There was no other way to describe it.
You knew humans had a multitude of sixth senses with one of them being gaze detection or that innate ability to just know someone was looking at you. Whatever it was called. Either way, piercing blue eyes caught your own. Immediately, your gaze continued on as if you were merely scanning the crowd instead of gawking.
You could still feel his stare on you and you had two options: start going towards your car (and feel like an idiot) or head inside (and feel like an idiot). You got out of bed, made an effort, and were already here. So you opted for the latter of the options and headed up the stairs.