[Day 3, Dec. 22 – The Ophelia Cruise Ship]
Octavia
The pounding in my head was relentless, each throb reminding me of yesterday’s chaos. My body felt like it had been hit by a truck, and the stale taste of champagne lingered in my mouth like a bitter aftertaste of humiliation.
I rubbed my temples and peeled my eyes open, blinking against the sunlight streaming through the balcony door.
I groaned as I realized I was still in my cheerleader costume, crumpled and messy, the skirt tangled around my thighs. My hair was a disaster, strands sticking out in every direction like I’d been caught in a hurricane.
Great.
I stretched my arms overhead and yawned, my limbs stiff and aching. But then it hit me like a lightning bolt, and I let out a panicked scream that echoed off the walls.
“Oh my
