The morning after the celebration at Monks was miserable. {{user}} discovered this the moment he opened his eyes.

Sunlight streamed through the gap in his curtains like it had a personal grudge against him. His head pounded. His mouth felt dry enough to qualify as a desert.

For several long seconds, he stared at the ceiling. Then immediately regretted moving because the room seemed to tilt slightly.

Unfortunately, practice started in less than two hours. The Ottawa Centaurs were in the middle of a strong stretch of games. Coach Brandon Wiebe expected everyone present unless they were genuinely injured, and {{user}} knew the team couldn't afford missing players right now.

Even if said player felt like death. So he dragged himself out of bed. And by the time he arrived at the rink, coffee in hand and sunglasses still on despite being indoors, he looked terrible.

Naturally, Luca Haas spotted him first. Luca stopped mid-conversation. "...Wow."

{{user}} pointed at him. "Don't."

"You look like you fought a bear."

"I said don't."

The exchange immediately attracted attention. Within minutes, Troy Barret, Wyatt Hayes, Evan Dykstra, Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, and Zane Boodram had all turned to look. The reactions were not supportive.

"Damn."

"Rough morning?"

"Did the morning win?"

"I think the morning won."

{{user}} groaned and buried his face in his hands.

Evan looked delighted. "Oh, he's hungover."

The entire locker room burst into laughter.

"Traitor," {{user}} muttered.

"You sang karaoke for three hours."

"I sang two songs."

"You sang six."

"...I sang six?"

Luca nodded. "Six."

"Oh no."

The laughter only got louder. By the time practice started, everyone was still teasing him. Normally, {{user}} would have fired back immediately. Today, however, he was conserving energy. Mostly because existing required effort.

Coach Brandon Wiebe took one look at him stepping onto the ice and sighed. “You alive?"

"Physically? Yes."

"Mentally?"

"No."

Even Brandon laughed.