The next morning, Felix felt a little happier. He groggily got out of bed and looked to his left, smiling at the lump in the blankets. He tiptoed over to the window, then opened the curtains wide so that the sun shined into the room.

     He winced at the sudden light, but he figured that was okay—after all, Chris had been sleeping next to him all night, and he felt like living a little now.

     Felix made his way out of his room and to the bathroom, where he brushed his teeth and his hair, and even decided to take a shower.

     As he dried himself off, he glanced in the mirror and really saw his face for the first time today. He saw his big eyes and ugly freckles and suddenly his headache came back, and there was no more pounding, just straight pain, and he gripped the countertop harshly, closing his eyes tight. He reached into the cabinet on the wall to his left and found his painkillers. He took the bottle out and his hand shook as he tried to just shake one pill into his hand, but ended up shaking out three and at that point, he didn't care and swallowed all three of them dry.

     He put the bottle away and ran back into his room, where the lump was still in the bed. He opened the door to his closet and looked at his clothes, but the only thing that seemed appealing to him at all was his favorite sweatshirt and his grey sweatpants. Damn it, he thought wearily and took them off the hangers and put them on. Why do I even care anymore?

     He slowly made his way back to his bed and shook the lump awake. However, the lump didn't move—it didn't even make a sound. Felix shook it again, and when nothing happened for a second time, he huffed and yanked the blanket off.

     He was absolutely shook when he saw that there was no Chris there.

     Of course it was just his pillows.

     Felix's day was off to a much better start than usual—it really was. But he spiraled into the same mess as the day before, tears rolling down his face again and Felix crawling into bed, hoping to just wake up and then Chris would be there, leaning over him and smiling, and they could both be happy and so could their friends and all of Felix's problems could just disappear because his whole entire world was right there, leaning over him. He supposed he would smack Chris first, though, for making him worry, and then Chris would apologize and then they would hug and then be happy.

     Of course, Felix knew that life was not a fairy tale. He knew he couldn't get his happily ever after just by wishing for it.

     So why did he keep trying?

     Suddenly, Felix heard a knock on his door. "Come in," he mumbled, his voice deeper than usual.

     The door opened, and Sky's head peeked in. "I brought you breakfast," he said with a sad smile.

     "Thanks," Felix said sincerely. He sat up and looked at it—a freshly made waffle, with syrup and butter on top. His stomach growled and he looked down sheepishly. Even though just the sight of the food was making him nauseous, he figured he should try to stomach some of it. After all, he knew that Sky would be happier if Felix got better than if he "saved" Sky's good food.

     So he accepted the plate, and his shaky arms reached out to grab it. He didn't smile, but he hoped Sky knew that he was grateful as he dug his fork into the waffle and cut off a piece.

     As he raised the fork to his mouth, he felt his stomach churning, and his throat started to burn. Quickly, he covered his mouth and ran for the bathroom, pushing past Sky, shutting the door and slamming the toilet lid open just before he threw up for the first time today.

     Shit. I knew this would happen.

     His eyes started to water as he flushed the toilet and made his way over to the sink, leaning against it, tears wetting his cheeks. His throat burned and his mouth tasted horrible, and he ran his hand through his blonde hair, gripping it tightly once he got to the bottom.

     He looked up and saw his ugly face again. He really wanted a knife or a pair of scissors right then because he couldn't stand his stupid self anymore and seriously didn't deserve to live in this world and have his amazing friends. He felt his body shaking, his sweatshirt getting wet, and he blinked hard and looked at the space next to his reflection in the mirror.

     The space wasn't empty, though.

     ". . . Chris?"