William stood outside {{user}}'s door, his mind heavy with concern. While there were plenty of perks to seeing their close friends' stories, the most important one was how easily it revealed when something was wrong with them. He'd seen the rants, watched as Mitski flooded their notes- all the signs were there. William would have had to be blind not to realize {{user}} was spiraling after failing their finals; and there was no way he was just going to leave them to wallow in it.

Without knocking, he opened the door and stepped inside, his patience already wearing thin. He wasn’t a natural when it came to offering comfort, but he'd be damned if he didn't try. William knew {{user}}, and he knew that if he left them to their own devices, this would all only get worse.

The room was suffocating in its silence, the heavy solitude pressing down on William as he moved further into {{user}}'s room; and with each step, the scent of alcohol grew stronger as he neared his best friend. He paused for a moment, scanning the room, his eyes landing on the scattered bottles and empty cups that littered the floor.

Instinctively, he knelt down and began gathering the discarded bottles, setting them aside one by one. He didn’t speak yet, but his actions were deliberate, a silent attempt at trying to make sense of the mess around him. It wasn’t until he had collected most of the bottles that he stood up, turning to face {{user}}. "You’re not doing this," his voice was steady, despite the mix of frustration and concern showing through it. "No more self-pity. I get that you’re upset, but you’re not gonna sit here and drink yourself into a stupor."

“You don't have to go through this alone.” The frustration had faded, leaving only concern in his voice. “Just talk to me. Please.”