"Please slow down," we heard Nick's breathless voice from behind, "you don't know the road, you have to wait for me."

"As if you do." Clay made his voice loud enough for Nick to hear in the distance.

But soon enough we reached a turn and didn't know which one to take. So we had to wait for Nick to get there with his annoying navigator.

"This is bullying." He was so out of breath that his remark sounded even funnier.

And after walking for another 10 minutes, we were finally there. I can't believe we spent almost an hour walking for a two star hotel that looked older than the queen.

I'm sure Nick could see the disappointment on our faces, and no words were needed to express it further. But I'd be surprised if Clay found peace without a remark.

"This looks like a morgue."

I facepalmed to hide my laugh, while Nick was so offended that we didn't like the hotel he found for us.

And it got even worse when we entered the building. The reception smelled. And it wasn't a pleasant smell. But I guess we had no other choice.

Even though we wanted to walk around in London for a bit before sleeping, we realized that we walked for long enough. And Clay looked so worn out, all I wanted was to see him get some sleep.

"At least we have three beds." Nick tried to make a point as we entered the room that smelled like mold.

"Yay, three times more gross sheets." Clay was too disgusted to even touch the sheets. They didn't look dirty, they just smelled moldy.

"This is exactly how I wanted to spend the Christmas morning." I spoke from the bathroom, washing my face and brushing my teeth to feel less grossed out about the situation.

"At least we're together," Nick knew that he was the one to blame, and desperately tried to make the situation better, "Merry Christmas guys, I love you."

Even though I was still a bit mad at him, I couldn't unsee how cute that was. So I just said it back.

And then realized that I don't want to wipe my face with the hotel room towels, and went all the way back to my backpack to grab my own.

"Please, my pillow smells like an actual chicken," Clay whined, "like actual alive chicken."

He probably wasn't even exaggerating. The pillows were feather filled, and it kind of made sense.

"Should I spray some of my cologne in the room?" Nick suggested.

"No." I liked how both me and Clay reacted to it in the same way, and as quick as possible.

"Just leave the window open for a bit." I suggested.

"It's already cold in here." Clay was desperately trying to gain some courage and get along with the reality of him having to sleep in that disgusting bed.

He threw the pillow on the ground, refusing to sleep with it. He also smelled the covers and pulled a face, letting us know that he wasn't happy with sleeping under them.

I did the same with my bed, putting the pillow aside because it did actually smell like alive chicken, and decided to use one of the oversized jackets I packed to cover my body.

And even though Nick was trying to stay positive and prove us that things weren't actually that bad, he couldn't tolerate the smell of the pillow for more than 2 minutes. Soon he quietly abandoned it.

And all of us kept our clothes on too, thinking that we'd just sleep for a few hours and leave.

Little did we know the timezone swapping did us dirty, and we slept longer than we intended.

I was the first to wake up, checking my phone and seeing that it was already 3 p.m.. I looked to my left and right, finding Nick and Clay asleep in their beds.

I felt bad about waking them up, but we had already wasted half of the day sleeping. And to feel less guilty about myself I decided to wake Nick first, and let him wake Clay.

"Nick.." I softly shook his shoulder. He wasn't snoring, which made me think that he wasn't sleeping that deeply.

"Five more minutes." He groaned and shifted in the bed, longing his hand to grab the pillow and cover his head with it.

And that was his biggest mistake, as not even half a minute after doing so, he got disgusted by the smell and opened his eyes.

"Ew." He scrunched up his nose and pushed the pillow down to the floor.

"Get up and wake Clay." I ordered and left to the bathroom.

He didn't react, and I could tell why. When I came back he was back asleep.

This time I decided to try with Clay. Slowly walking to his bed, I took a seat on the corner of it. My hands were still wet from just washing them, and I couldn't help but annoy him by touching his neck with them.

"Nooooo!" The way he flinched was funny to me, but I still felt bad about waking him like this.

"Gogy's waiting for us, get up." I was trying to make him excited about the day.

"He's not." I will never get over his morning voice.

"Well if you get up and call him, he will." This was like convincing a 3rd grader to do their homework.

He finally opened his eyes. After blinking a few times and groaning to show how annoyed he was, he finally reached for his phone.

I watched him squint at the screen for a few seconds, looking at the twitter notification.

"Eight hour Christmas special livestream woo," he read out George's tweet, but with a monotonous voice, "ah fuck.."