Stress had been weighing you down for weeks, between classes and your social life. It had become a normal routine to stay up past midnight studying, really living up to the workaholic allegations. You sit on your bed, work sprawled in every direction on the mattress, the screen of your laptop being one of the only sources of light in the room.

Your train of thought is cut short by a loud, continuous banging noise coming from across the room. Startled, your eyes snap up from your work, gaze landing on your balcony window. On the other side is your best friend, Manny, with a look of urgency on his face.

“{{user}}!” he shouts, voice slightly muffled from behind the glass. One hand clutches his abdomen, and when you squint, you swear you can see blood seeping through his shirt and fingers. What happened?

“Please, dude, open up. Quick, hurry,” he pants.