James, roll him over.
Get up, you do not get to hide from this. Regret does not make it okay that you kissed the wrong girl. We’ve been in this dust-covered spare room for four hours now keeping you from vomiting into your own mouth while you scream obscenities in your sleep. We are exhausted. We are sweaty and my shirt still reeks of smoke from the club where I didn’t even get to buy a drink before we had to leave because Kay was crying. James has at least three bruises from catching you when you started throwing yourself backwards down the stairs. We are every kind of battered from your bad decisions.
The bed is no longer an option. Ignoring last night doesn’t make it any less real for the rest of us who do remember it and who had to keep you from shoving your hands down our pants. Now you are going to drink this coffee, take a shower, throw on sunglasses and meet us down the street where the girls are having breakfast. And you are going to clear this up before we all lose them.