Felix was hungover.

When was he not hungover?

His years of a dependence on alcohol had built up a tolerance. A tolerance to getting drunk in the first place, but also a tolerance to the effects of a hangover.

That didn't mean it'd worked every single time though. Like now, he woke up with a splitting headache, a sick feeling to his stomach, and a gross feeling about him. Felix had grown used to these things.

They didn't mean anything to him anymore.

The early morning sunlight slamming into his eyes certainly wasn't helping things either.

He felt a body next to him in his bed and groaned at the thought. His glasses were a lifeline–much like his Schaefer–that allowed him to see. Without them he couldn't even really make out who was next to him.

Or maybe that was the combination of him just waking up and the splitting migraine.

Felix was about to complain to 'Linda' about something or another, before he remembered that she'd left him. This realization only made his hangover worse. The hands he'd made rub at his eyes did little to fix his vision, nor his migraine, but it'd done enough.

Enough to realize the person next to him wasn't a woman.

Felix wasn't one to find himself attracted to the same sex. At least, he'd convinced himself as such. Everybody had always had suspicions of him, Felix Kranken, the skinny business major who'd sit in the back of class and doodle poorly done anthropomorphic bunnies.

That was years ago, and now was now.

People still looked at him funny–though that was probably because people mostly saw him black out drunk. This was just another little something that wasn't as little as he'd convinced himself.

Felix Kranken was a man full of regrets, and this was just another pilled atop him. They all loomed over him, never ending, never quieting. He would never be able to remedy them.

Or maybe he could.

He was too scared to try.

"Damn...it all..."

Today would be a long day.

Maybe he could start it off worse than the last. They always did anyway.

It'd be a new record.