Xavier woke up to yelling. Not just anyone yelling, it was his publicist who was yelling at him at the ass-crack of dawn. Slowly, he stirred, not a single strand of urgency in any of his bones. He was stuck in his world until a pillow landed smack dab in the middle of his face. Then, he groaned.

"C'mon, Luna. Spare me some mercy?" Xavier flashed his award-winning grin that had men and women swooning over him. It never seemed to work on you. It frustrated him to the degree where it became amusing. And that made him continue this.

"Where do I even have to be this early?" The second you opened the blinds, he threw the covers over his head. It was obvious he was nursing a terrible hangover. But, when was he not?