WHO: Seth and Henry Wadcock
WHAT: Early morning wake up calls
WHERE: Seth's hotel room
WHEN: Morning after jail time!
“Go away,” Seth moaned at the knocking at his door. It was loud and obnoxious and it made his head feel like it was going to split in two. He groaned rolling over and burying his head under his pillow as the knocking persisted. All he wanted to do was
die, he hadn’t been this hungover in ages. “Go. Away,” he yelled out louder pulling yet another pillow of his face.
Last night. Ugh last night. Seth didn’t even have words for last night. Seth hardly remembered last night. He didn’t have much of a chance to think on it much as pillows were pulled from his face and light suddenly flooded the room. He squeezed his eyes shut covering them with his hands. Vicious uncalled payback on the part of his roommate. It wasn’t even his idea to bring him along. Or at least he was pretty sure it wasn’t his idea.
“How are you even
moving?” Seth asked still trying to hide from the light. Last he recalled was helping get Vinny in his own bed before coming back out to the front room to crash on the couch. “Vinny. Just...stop moving. Go back to bed. Close the curtains.
How are you even moving?”
“Because I’m not one of the complete wankers that got so pissed they insulted half of
Turkey with their barbarian-like behavior and found themselves in
jail!”
Henry huffed loudly to match his tone of voice, hoping that each word pierced his brother’s head as sharply as a spear would. He had gotten an early morning floo call from the English team manager
shrieking to make sure that the
shenanigans from last night were covered up and not leaked to the press, at least until
after the tournament was won! Henry had to force the manager to repeat the story
twice before finally understanding everything, and he had made his way to the players’ hotel
without having any breakfast.
Oh, he was in a
foul mood.
“Do you think I enjoy being woken up at the crack of dawn by a raging floo image of your manager’s head up in flames?
Literal flames?” Henry slammed the pillow down onto Seth’s back, swinging it back up again over his shoulder for another wind up. Livid, he was absolutely
livid! All of their hard work over the past few seasons cleaning up his image---it was that
Lynch, the younger brother was sure of it, Henry had always hated him, he was going to be
sure to wring Lynch’s neck once they got back to England as his Polish PR team was already on the case.
“And
then he tells me you call
Wendy Midgen of all people? Midgen! The most beloved Chaser in the whole bloody game, you got
her mixed up in this nonsense? Her rep is going to
slaughter me, and look at your
hair!”
Another whack with a pillow was garnered, this time to Seth’s head as Henry had no qualms about worsening his brother’s headache. “You---”
whack “--are representing---”
WHACK “---YOUR----
COUNTRY!”
Oh Merlin. Not Vinny.
Henry. It was too early for this. Seth snatched the pillow back from his little brother (his
little brother was attacking him with a pillow!) on the last hit. He was speaking too fast. Asking too many questions. Seth couldn’t keep up. Hugging the pillow to his chest trying to decide what to respond to first. “Wendy did my hair,” he muttered. “Because I am representing my country.”
He rubbed his face before pulling himself into a sitting position, throwing the pillow at his brother. “Okay. Pick two questions. Because I’ve already forgotten half of what you said. Not intentionally. I’m sure it was important.” He rubbed the side of his face. Merlin his head hurt. And the room was still spinning slightly. Terrible idea. Last time he was listening to Michal.
Henry knocked the thrown pillow to the floor and marched over to the window of the room where he threw open the curtains so the morning sunlight could bear down on his hungover brother. He was silhouetted by the light, his fists firmly planted on his hips to intensify his stance and anger. The European Cup was supposed to shed a wider light on Seth’s change of habits, because a person might hate an individual team like the Falcons, but they sure as hell couldn’t hate their country’s. Luckily England didn’t have a match until next Monday and were already moving on to the next round, but
what if their performance seemed lacking?
How
easy it was to blame a loss on a drunken criminal!
“What the hell is the matter with you? You haven’t gotten like this since---I can’t even remember! I can’t even
remember,” Henry exclaimed, dropping down into a chair by the window. His mind was reeling with a million things, how to pay Wendy back, how to keep the Turkish papers from publishing the news, how to calm down the England manager----maybe a giant fruit basket with chocolate covered pineapples. That had seemed to please him the last time one of Henry’s players had caused a ruckus.
He put a hand over his face, letting out a deep breath. What a nightmare.
This was exactly why Seth sent for Wendy instead of his brother. Although in retrospect, it might have been wiser to call Henry. Let him deal with his anger and shouting while he was still drunk and not now while he was hungover. Ugh, sunlight. His brother was merciless.
What was the matter with him.
That was the question of the day. Even Seth couldn’t remember the last time he acted like this. Yes, he went out for drinks with Michal, but nothing like this. His stomach turned at the thought of the night before. It may have been fun at the time, but he hadn’t been this self destructive in a while. He should know better than this. He was a
father for Merlin’s sake. Wishing he could just tell his brother he had no idea what had come over him, that it was just fun that had gotten way out of hand, Seth knew exactly what the answer to his question was.
“I kissed Mira at the WWN New Year’s party,” Seth offered swallowing thickly, leaning his head back staring at the ceiling as the night’s events replayed in his mind. He covered his eyes with the crook of his elbow. He didn’t want to discuss it. Talk about it. Even think about it. It was stupid enough that it happened in the first place. He should have known better. “I kissed Mira at the New Year’s party and thought I finally had a chance to fix things and all she wanted was a one night stand.”
Henry couldn’t hold back his groan.
Mira. He hadn’t heard
that name in a year, or at least Seth had managed to not mention her to him. That WWN party had started off brilliantly, from what Henry had heard, but with the fights that had been reported from how
wild people started behaving once the clock struck midnight---well, Henry was glad that he and Heidi had decided to be homebodies and were asleep by ten. A six month old with a cold managed to do that to you. He once again covered his face and took a few deep breaths before dropping his hand to his lap.
Seth really had been on a good run this past year or so. Even more than that, really. Henry could honestly say that he knew his brother was trying to keep his image in check. Not only for his career, but for his daughter. Now that he was a father, Henry understood that intense need to lead by example, and even though Bran was still far too young to be influenced by the things he did or said, he found himself choosing his words carefully around his son.
Frowning, because he was still put off at the amount of work he was going to have to do to keep this incident under wraps until after the tournament was over, Henry stood and tossed his brother a set of robes that seemed decently clean. He did not think discussing Mira, whom Henry had dubbed She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, this early in the morning was a good idea.
“Get dressed and we’ll go get breakfast,” Henry said, smirking and crossing his arms. “You’re paying, obviously.”
Seth fumbled a bit with the robes he failed to catch as he tried to processes the sudden shift in moods. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting at the first mention of his ex in practically a year, but an offer to breakfast certainly wasn’t it. Especially after his antics from last night. He expected to be in the dog house for much
much longer. Seth looked up from the robes in his hand to his brother to question the change, when it hit him.
Oh. This was
sympathy breakfast. He frowned looking back to the robes in his hands, which weren’t even his. Seth could see it for what is was. Obviously, his attempt to rekindle the relationship and being shot down was pathetic enough to forgive being arrested and dragging former headboy and baby falcon along with him. And the world’s most beloved chaser. He would have prefered more yelling. He
deserved more yelling. He had successfully thrown a year plus worth of hard work away all while representing England.
“These aren’t mine.” Seth said quietly standing from the couch, steadying himself on the armrest as room span and a wave a nausea swept over him. “Gudgeon’s. I’ll just be a minute.” he said as he made his way to the other room. He moved quietly, not wanting to wake Vinny as he made his way to where he kept his things. He peeled off Vinny’s shirt that he hadn’t bothered to change out of the night before and ran his hands through his hair. He felt so
gross, but then again he probably shouldn’t expect any different after a night in a turkish jail.
After pulling on his own robes and leaving a note on the nightstand for Vinny in case he woke up while he was gone (and actually cared he wasn't there), Seth made his way back out to where he left his brother. His mouth twitched slightly as he caught sight of the look Henry was giving him. He couldn’t stand it, but as much as he wanted to say something to needle his brother into yelling at him again, he couldn’t find it worth it to wake his roommate. He felt bad enough he got dragged into this mess in the first place, waking him at this awful hour would just be cruel. That it wasn't his brother's fault he couldn't seem to keep himself from making these sorts of stupid decisions.
“Alright, let’s go.” he muttered brushing past and opening the door. It wasn't like he actually
had to talk about it. Maybe if he could manage sitting through a sad awkward breakfast, they could move on and pretend that he never mentioned Mira. "Pick somewhere cheap, I get the feeling I spent enough money last night."
Somewhere cheap? Ha. Henry had no idea the numbers that his brother and his cronies may have wracked up last night, but that was not going to affect his choice of breakfast food. There was a nearby wizarding restaurant and in Henry’s short stay so far in Istanbul it seemed to be satisfactory for all three meals of the day. It was a quick, brisk walk; hopefully the cold air would wake his brother up enough to jog some of this memories of the night before.
Sliding into the booth, Henry ordered coffee for the two of them, quite pleased with how smooth his Turkish sounded, or at least
he thought so. He had been taking lessons since the location of the Euro Cup had been announced and had managed to not get lost or somehow trade one of the players he was representing. Maybe he’d be able to stop the-----hell.
“Hold on a moment,” Henry said, pushing out of the booth, waving idly at the table, “Look at the menu---” He crossed to the front counter and leaned over to the cashier, a dark gleam in his eye.
“Hide all of those copies of The Tattler,” Henry hissed, pulling out a rather decent sum of money. The cashier looked confused, but Henry kept his stern expression and pushed the money into the young bloke’s hand, “
all of them, and I’ll pick them up in an hour.” He cleared his throat, not leaving room for the cashier to argue as he stalked back to the table. Henry sat down roughly and refrained from kicking his brother in the shins. “So---what can you remember?”
Seth watched his brother confused for a moment before he decided that the coffee that was just delivered to the table was more worthy of his attention. He cupped the warm mug in his hands, not even bothering with the menu. The coffee was
divine. His mind drifted, trying to remember the events from the night before. He startled when Henry returned to the booth. Well at the very least he was back to looking annoyed.
Truth be told, Seth remembered more of the night than he would like to admit. How exactly he lost half his clothes and ended up in jail, not so much. He clearly remembered how the night started out though. Meeting up for drinks with Michal, eventually Vinny and Howell showing up too, a little fuzzy on when exactly they joined in, but he clearly remembered conversation at some point in the night about the women in their lives. He also remembered trash talking to the Turkish players, and how satisfying it was to punch the one for making a snide remark about the ‘tiny pink haired chaser’. And the last memory he had before jail, was thinking that it might be best if this was the last round of shots.
Next thing he knew, he was being chewed out by Wendy before crashing down beside Vinny when she eventually joined them in the cell. He took a long drag of his coffee, deciding just how much he should tell his brother. At the time, drinking seemed like a fantastic idea. He had been so well behaved the past year and look where that got him. Well, his reputation was better, but he was still single and couldn’t seem to hold down a relationship to save his life. “I remember thinking that it was a good idea at the time.” Seth offered shrugging his shoulder.
He ordered what sounded like a ridiculously unhealthy breakfast platter when the young waitress came back around, trying to ignore the strange look she was giving him. He told himself it was the mess of the red hair he didn’t bother doing anything with before leaving, but he got the distinct feeling that was not it at
all. He stirred some sugar into his coffee fidgeting in the silence. “Sorry.” he muttered, not even sure it was loud enough for his brother to hear. “Maybe we’ll luck out and it will blow over. I’m sure the Italians have caused more report worthy ruckus.”
Henry didn’t have much of an appetite anymore, but he ordered what he’d been eating for the past few days because that had proved successful. He forced down the urge to yell at his brother some more with his less than helpful response, but decided that since the news had already broken to the Tattler, which Henry was starting to suspect had insiders on the bloody teams and must be paying them in ways their contracts could not, they could have another hour of relative ease. Seth was still his brother, after all, he didn’t particularly enjoy the fact that he’d been in prison. Henry also didn’t appreciate that he had not been the one Seth reached out to, but again, that was for another time.
Maybe he could sneak Seth back into the hotel without any idea about the Tattler. Henry would have to steal his journal, keep his idiot teammates away---if he could get his brother through the day maybe it would be easier to deal with; surely a hangover of this gigantic proportions needed more time to heal before dealing with the true ramifications of the night.
“The Italians are a nightmare,” Henry said, keeping an eye out for any more disturbances out the restaurant’s front window. This was going to be a long, long day.
Seth dug into his food keeping an eye on his brother. He seemed very distracted, his attention split between the window and the door and Seth. Something was up, he was hungover, not stupid. He expected more for that remark about the Italians, and making light of the situation. He frowned finishing off his eggs in silence before putting his fork down. He kicked the booth next to Henry’s leg to bring his attention back to him. Whatever it was it could wait. Seth had made what he felt was a rather important decision for his hungover state.
“So I’ve been thinking,” he started picking his fork back up to push food around his plate. While he didn’t do any thinking the night before, Seth had done quite a bit of it leading up to then. And really, wasn’t it all proof that he should just give it all up. Nasty habit of him to spiral every time he had a run in with Mira. “After the cup, I should take some time off before picking up with W.Q.W. again. But maybe in the spring, we could host an auction of sorts. I am sure we could raise all sorts of money from things players just lying around. Old equipment, autographs,
jewelery.”
He didn’t look up until he was finished speaking, hoping that his brother caught what he was trying to say. Seth really didn’t want to have to spell it out, he wasn’t even sure he could. He took another bite of his breakfast before shoving the plate away.
Of course Henry knew what Seth meant. What was always on Seth’s mind? Women, and one more in particularly than the rest. Henry had enjoyed Mira, he really had. They got along well, two Slytherins that were good at driving his idiot Gryffindor of a brother mad. He didn’t think Seth had made the wrong choice by putting Leanne first, but he didn’t think the way he’d gone about it was the best of things either. It had been a year ago, he had thought Seth was moved on, but apparently feelings still lingered and something drastic needed to be done. Henry should have told Seth to get rid of the engagement ring he’d bought for Mira ages ago, but there was really no gentle way to do that. Henry had been heartbroken before---he could have
some sympathy in the matter.
“I’ll look into it,” he said with a curt nod, once again in a few words letting his brother know that he understood. The ring was definitely a physical anchor to Seth’s feelings for Mira, so maybe this could be a good thing. Henry shook his head, running a hand through his hair. Not only did he have this disaster of a media blitz about to pour down on them, but now he had to deal with
girl issues and the dramatics it brought upon.
Henry sighed. They were barely a month into the new year.
Half a month. “Just---finish eating so we can get back to the hotel.”
