Sunlight graces the surface of the terrace, twinkling out of dewdrops, and peeking through the gaps of Juniper trees lining the walkway uphill to the Mexican stucco villa. Upstairs, over the balcony and through the open window, and past the billowing silk curtains, inside a King-sized imported Italian mattress and dove-feathered comforter, lays Roseidous.

Another person next to Roseidous stirs, awakened by his snoring. A head pops out from beneath the covers, frizzed hair obstructing her view. Swiping it aside, her eyes suddenly grow narrow at the sight of her partner.

"No…no, no, no, this isn't happening!" Holli practically screams. She leaps out of the bed, and backs away, her hands on either side of her head, trying to comprehend the situation. Roseidous twitches slightly in his slumber. At this motion, Holli creeps out, fearing provoking him awake and facing the resulting embarrassing encounter. She slowly closes the finely engraved French oak doors behind her. A cold chill is sent up her spine as she walks barefoot down the marble hallway. Holli then realizes she is wearing nothing but a thin lacey nighty. She ponders returning back to the bedroom to get dressed, until she hears a groan echoing from the oak doors. She is quickly prompted to duck into a side room, of which she has no idea what it contains.

Inside the small Victorian-styled room, a maid is busily cleaning vomit stains from the accompanying bathroom's porcelain-tiled floor.

"Those Roseidous boys…such party animals. I really wish they'd keep it outside. The gardener needs more work…" the maid mutters on as she scrubs vigorously over the dried green blemishes.

"Excuse me," Holli says, tapping the woman on the shoulders.

"Oh, Mrs. Roseidous! I didn't know you'd be up this early! I didn't wake you, did I? I didn't mean to, I'm sorry. I know how sensitive you are to sound…I was being as quiet as…"

"Wait, Mrs. Roseidous?"

"Why, yes, would you like something for breakfast? I could ring for the butler…"

"No, no, that's all right. Listen, can I make a deal with you?"

Back inside the bedroom, Roseidous groggily wakes up, rubbing the crust from his eyes. He looks around stupidly, his brain not yet comprehending the environment. He stumbles out of bed, and staggers towards the walk-through window, out onto the balcony. The sunlight assaults his eyes, seeming to burn them to the core for a moment. Squinting, Roseidous' eyes gradually adjust, and he is bewildered by the shear magnitude of the sight in front of him. A track of thick, lush green grass slops downhill next to square patches of vibrant assortments of flowers: purple roses, creamy orchids, Jasmine, lilac, daises, frosty irises, buttercups, crested birds of paradise, and so much more. All of this frames the ascending white steps, leading to the grand front door of the tastefully decorated Roseidous manor. The intense volume of flowers coats the air with a thick fragrance that wafts up towards Roseidous' nostrils, forcing his sleep-numbed mind alive and tingling with new sensations.

"My God!" Roseidous finally manages to say. Roseidous looks back inside the bedroom, and notices the second depression next to his side of the bed. "I wonder if I just slept with a rich man's wife." Roseidous jerks down, clenching his temples with his forefinger and thumb--an intense migraine hitting hard. "I wonder what I did last night. Ouch…"

(To Be Continued)