The morning sun was streaking through the gap in the blackout curtains, right onto my fucking face.

"Uuuugh..." I groaned, closing my eyes again and flailing for my phone on the coffee table. 11:34 AM. My eyes were puffy and my shoulders were stiff. Sleeping on the couch was a shitty idea, but I didn't want to get up, so I rolled over into the leather cushions to escape the rude beam of sunlight.

"Cosmo, I need coffee." Hex whined. "And an ice mask."

Damn it. I rolled back over and sat up, wincing.

"You know you don't actually live here, right? You're allowed to go get coffee." I rubbed my eyes. Hex was curled into a ball on the loveseat, a fuzzy throw blanket around his shoulders.

He looked at me blearily. "Don't be mean to me, little boy. My head hurts and I'm all groggy and I look like shit. You look like shit too."

"That's just my face." I murmured. He wadded the blanket into a ball and chucked it at my head.

"It's too early for your self-hating bullcrap, Cosmo." He stood, stretching, his spine popping.

"It's almost noon." I countered.

"Too early. Literally any time is too early for it." He yawned. "I'm going to take a shower, okay? I feel gross."

"Sure. Sorry I don't have any fancy shampoo and stuff for you."

"It's fine. I just want to stand under the cool water and deflate my face, anyway ...Clean towels in the usual pile?" He started towards my bedroom and glanced back over his shoulder, looking smug.

"Leave me alone and quit laundry-shaming me." I flopped my head on the back of the couch and idly scrolled through social media. It must be nice to be so damn self-satisfied all the time.

That was something I envied about him.

"Do you want me to save you some hot water?" He called, ignoring me.

"Nah. I showered last night- well, technically this morning, after you passed out."

The bathroom door closed, and I could hear the sound of the shower hissing. I dragged myself into my room and took the huge pill organizer out of the nightstand drawer. I found the little compartment that said SUN AM and flicked it open, sighing at the rainbow of different capsules and tablets. I took them all with the stale bottle of water on the nightstand.

My meds were being changed a lot lately, ever since the "Incident". Increasing, switching, weaning off. Antidepressants, sedatives, supplements, NSAIDs that might as well be placebos. Let's try this and see if it helps.

Nothing ever helped for long. I was drowsy and nauseous and still in fucking pain. At least now medical professionals were actually trying. It feels like they never took me seriously before. Like no one gives a shit about your problems until they're serious enough to make you attempt suicide. Suddenly, they all wanted to help. It really, really pissed me off. You shouldn't have to be at rock bottom before doctors believed you enough to care.

I headed back to the couch, intent on sitting there until I decayed.

A text message alert trilled on my phone. I tapped the notification, It was Anderly.

There was a pause, and then the three little indicator dots blinked as Anderly typed something.

The door burst open and Anderly strode in like she owned the place. I could hear her casually tossing her shoulder bag on the narrow table by the door like she always did and kicking her boots off; they thudded into the wall. The door closed hard.

"So." She said, leaning over me from behind the couch and glaring suspiciously. Her long curls touched my face. "You gonna tell me what happened?"

No

"Yeah, come sit." I sighed and patted the space next to me. I wanted to get this over with so we could move on.

She came around and hopped onto the couch, her curvy legs pulled underneath her. Today she was wearing a peach Ziggy Stardust t-shirt tucked into a long grey wool skirt, with a faded cropped denim jacket. The jacket was unbuttoned, hanging open, and she was fiddling with the little crescent moon pendant on a long thin silver chain around her neck.

She studied my face, concerned. "You were crying." She said. It wasn't a question.

"After work, Hex wanted to talk about that night." I sighed out a huge breath. "It got... emotional."

She adjusted her black cat-eye glasses, not speaking for a minute. She looked at the bathroom door as the sound of the shower stopped. "Is he okay? Are you?"

Am I ever? I purposefully ignored her second question.

"He's fine now. But seeing him cry like that... Honestly... it kind of has me messed up. I've never seen him like that before." It was like the image I had of him in my head: cocky, stoic and completely fearless; had shifted suddenly enough to really shake me.

Anderly put her head on my shoulder. "He's a human being, just like the rest of us." She wrapped her chain around her finger, a habit that meant she was thinking, analyzing. "He has fears, stress, and pain, even though he wants everyone to think he's some kind of divine being."

I let out a little chuckle at how accurate that description was, and the bathroom door opened. Hex came out shirtless, scrubbing his hair dry with a towel.

His incredible tattoos were on full display, a massive Japanese style piece like a vest made of ink. A phoenix, all in warm colors with a long tail and swirling feathers flowed up his back. His arms and shoulders had jewel toned lotus flowers and white-highlighted chrysanthemums on them, beautiful in their sheer detail. On one side of his chest was a ghoulish hannya mask, with a kitsune mask mirrored on the other side, like they were eternally glaring at each other. The whole thing was held together with a background of black clouds, scalloped around the edges.

It covers both sides of his ass and down to the middle of his thighs, but I've only ever seen part of that: when he got too drunk and stripped down to his underwear at a party last year. (I don't think he remembers.)

He turned to face us, looking totally like a yakuza despite only being half Japanese.

"You guys talking shit?" He asked dryly, sticking his arms through his rumpled white dress shirt and buttoning it up.

"Always, babe." Said Anderly, grinning.

Hex combed his hair back with his fingers and went to the coat rack by the door to retrieve his flashy jacket. He put it on and buttoned it up with no shirt underneath, since his had mascara tears all over it.

"I'm going to perish if we don't go get coffee right now." He said, simultaneously serious yet dramatic. Typical. He fished his sunglasses out of his jacket pocket and put them on.

We got up, and my friends made me put on actual clothes and not just a threadbare t-shirt and faded sweatpants. They looked straight up horrified when I tried to put my shoes on and leave looking like that. It was kind of funny.

"Fine, fine. I'll go change." I said, vanquished by their dire expressions.

Eventually I was deemed "barely presentable" by Hex, and Anderly informed me that "The 90's called and they want their grunge rock fashion back". I was wearing a grey long sleeved tee and an oversized red plaid flannel shirt over acid wash skinny jeans and black combat boots. It was comfy and 90's rock was my jam. I didn't give a shit about being fashionable. After Anderly harassed me into putting on my shoulder brace (over the t-shirt and hidden under my flannel shirt, since I hated that thing) we were finally able to leave my apartment. We piled into her white '18 Chevy Equinox and headed downtown.

~