Royal Hippogriff (Jim Povolo)

Chapter 1

Drunk Dying Of Hair

Sunlight hit my face, warm against my cold skin. I could feel the light on the other side of my eyelids. I opened my mouth to groan in complaint, but my throat was dry.

I slowly forced my eyes open and regretted it. Sunlight streamed from the uncovered window in front of me. I looked at it in annoyance, and my eyes explored everything in sight.

I was in my living room, on the couch; the whole place was a mess. I slowly sat up, gripping my head. It hurt, as If some loud kids were pounding in my head.

I looked around, moving my hand to my neck. The whole place was just trashed. Images of last night slowly and foggily creeped back into my mind. Party. Drinking. Dancing. Music.

I scrambled awkwardly to my feet and trudged my way to the kitchen, nearly slipping on a spilled drink. I groaned outwardly as I saw Geena, my roommate, sleeping on the kitchen counter. I shook her awake, checking her face for anything drawn on there with marker like last time.

"What?" She groaned lazily, opening one eye. When her eyes found mine, her eyes went wide, "What happened?"

Her voice seemed to raise an octave, and I felt my face quickly, "What?" What'd someone draw on me now?

"Macy! Your hair! It's blue!" She cried, sitting up quickly, swinging her legs over. Panic flooded, making my stomach drop. I ran to the bathroom, ignoring the feeble, annoying protests of pounding from my head.

I opened the door and stared at my mirror. It was true. My usual white hair was now covered in eccentric blue, mostly around the top of my head, getting lighter as it went down to the bottom of my hair. Some of my white still showed. Who did this? I walked closer to the mirror, feeling my hair.

It didn't feel any different, at all. I groaned, trying to remember feeling my hair being dyed at all. But I couldn't. I leaned down to the sink and turned on hot water. It hit my hair, and I hoped it would come out.

When I whipped my hair back off of my forehead, I felt defeated as I looked in the mirror. My hair was still the same. I sighed, wrapped my hair in a towel, and turned off the faucet. Who would do this to me?

I walked back into the kitchen to see Geena making pancakes and coffee. She was humming quietly to herself.

"Do you know who did this?" I asked her, walking over to the pantry to get a trash bag, my hair feeling like it weighed ten pounds. She smiled sadly, "No, sorry! But I checked my phone; I got a lot of complaining texts. Amanda's eyebrows got shaved off! And Mark now has a sharpie tattoo of Piglet on his cheek."

I laughed half-heartedly, and began picking up the mess of our apartment to distract myself. Cups, chips, glass, paint, coins, money, phones, and clothes were everywhere. the weirdest thing I found was a Potato with an M scratched into it.

I was able to fill up the whole trash bag by the time the apartment looked decent. Geena just watched me curiously and ate on the couch.

"I'm going to vacuum, so if you must spill crumbs, do so now!" I told her, walking towards the door with the trash bag over my shoulder.

"Wait! You can't go out yet! You haven't done your hair or make up yet!" Geena fretted as I stepped out of the door. I sighed, "I don't want to, it's not like I'm gonna meet anyone!"

She snickered, "So what? Come on! I wanna style your new hair!"

I rolled my eyes, dropped the trash bag near the couch, and sat down next to her, taking the towel off of my hair.

"Yes! It's dry!" She exclaimed, jumping up from the couch, setting down her plate and cup, and running to her room. I sighed and ran my hands through my now dry hair. This would change my life, completely.

I loved my white hair! It was so different from everyone else! My eyes were crystal blue, icy even. I liked that about myself also.

"Okay!" Geena announced running back to the couch. She sat, cross-legged in front of me, make-up kit, a brush and a straighter in her hands. She began fixing me up, and I waited as patiently as I could.

Geena had dark hair to her shoulders, green eyes, and a bright smile. She was random and loud, with a great singing voice. She plugged the straighter in and straightened the bottom of my hair. She used her spinny brush to make my hair look a little poofy at the top. She parted my hair, and then started my make-up.

As far as I knew, she used mascara, eyeliner, and light blue eye shadow. I was never a big fan of make-up. She pat my head, "Alright! You can go now!"

I rolled my eyes, and stood up. She suddenly gasped, "No! You have to change!" I snickered, "No! I am not changing! I'll be right back!"

I picked up the trash and walked outside, thinking about how ridiculous I must look with blue hair now. As I was walking to the trashcan, I saw my cat. She was across the street with some other cats, hissing angrily.

I saw a fight coming on. I dropped my trash in the trash cans, and ran across the street, intending to save her. But you know what? I didn't save her. I just nearly died.

My heart leapt in my throat as the car hit my side, stealing my breath and forcing me to the cold ground. The cats ran off, but my cat, Elizabeth, looked at me in confusion, as if she were confused by my choice of lying on the ground.

The car had screeched to a stop after hitting my side, and I felt blood falling from my waist, and from my ear. Tears fell as pain seared through my body.

I heard car doors open and some honks of annoyance. One meow and I fainted.

"You think that's her natural hair color?" Someone asked in the distance.

"The blue or the white part of her hair?" Someone replied.

"Both." said the first voice.

"The white...hmm, that looks real. Blue, not so much."

"Stop...that's my albino hair..." I groaned as soon as I could feel myself. My head was pounding sluggishly, and thoughts passed my mind slowly. I could still understand that someone was picking on my white hair, and I didn't like it. I loved my "albino" hair, as me and Geena called it.

"Macy!" Geena cried, running to my side. I was in a hospital bed, for sure. I looked down at myself. I was in one of those light blue, depressing dresses and under some white sheets.

"My waist hurts." I whimpered, and she yelled, "Doctor!" I looked around the room, uncomprehending.

But then my eyes widened, "A-are you Darren Criss?" I said to someone. He had dark, clean cut hair with some curls, and he was leaning against the wall, next to someone I thought resembled Brian Rosenthal, a person from a musical I liked.

"Me? Yeah. Uhm, yeah, I kind of...hit you...with my car...that's kinda why you're here...I'm so sorry! You were just there! And I hardly saw you, and I kinda just panicked, hit my brakes, and then by the time we got out to you, you were passed out." He rambled on, and happiness flooded through me, despite his news.

"I got hit with a car by Darren Criss." I mumbled stupidly, my voice sounded happy. I was happy. I couldn't be happier.

"You're happy about this?" Geena asked acidly, glaring at Darren and Brian.

I nodded, "That's Darren Criss! That's Harry Freaking Potter." I mumbled in excitement, but it still sounded like some rambling. I couldn’t believe it! Darren Criss and Brian Rosenthal! Harry Freaking Potter and Seamus Finnigan/Quirrel/The guy at the station!

“Are you okay?” She asked in confusion, looking at me in both confusion and worry. Geena didn’t know about StarkidPotter.

“They’re from that musical I’m always talking about! A Very Potter Musical? Sequel?” I tell her, looking up into her eyes. I see my reflection in the pure green. I had a bandage around my forehead, and my eyes were shining in excitement.

“They still hit you with a car. I’m not so fond of them.” She said at normal volume, her voice thick with acid. I heard Brian gasp.

“Ms. Flowers? You’re awake! I’m Kaitlin, I will be your nurse for today. Are you feeling woozy, agitated, confused…?” The nurse said as she walked in. She was a short woman, with blond, curled hair that didn’t pass her face, and a huge smile. She was probably around 45.

“I-I’m fine.” I replied, smiling. I wasn’t fine! I was freaking out! I got hit with a car by Darren Criss! The Darren Criss! Harry Freakin Potter!

“Okay! We did some slight surgery on your waist to sew it up, quite the collide you had! Your doctor recommends that you don’t do anything dangerous for the next month, and to keep this bandage wrapped around your waist.” Kaitlin tells me, holding up a large roll of tan colored wraps.

I nod, “Thanks. When can I leave?”

“As soon as you’re ready, you can leave and check out. The doctor would like to talk to you before you leave, though." She replied, smiling and checking some large machines I was attached to.

"Cool." I replied, looking at Geena. She was still glaring at Darren and Brian.

"We should sue you." Geena said coldly to them.

"They don't wanna be sued," I suddenly exclaimed, and lowered my voice to a singing voice, "They don't wanna, they don't wanna be sued! They're not trying, they're not trying to be rude!"

Darren laughed, "That song is so old...but, uh, yeah, Geena, was it? We don't wanna be sued. We can't fight the man." He told her, looking nervous and apologetic. He was so cute!

Geena eyed me for a minute, like I was crazy for breaking out into song, and finally looked to Darren, "I'll think about it." She turned back to me, her expression softened, "Macy are you sure you're okay?" I nodded immediately, "I'm fine!"

She sighed, "When do you want to leave?" She turned her back on Brian and Darren completely, in an attempt to block them.

I slowly sat up, trying my best not to look stupid in front of the Starkids, "Soon. But if it's not too much...Darren&Brian, could I have your autographs?"

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