It was stupid. Laurence shouldn't have to worry about things like this. Curse the internet! Though, he supposed if the internet didn't exist, it would be pretty terrifying not knowing who was talking about you and who knew things you didn't want them to. Then again, was that stress really worth it? Was knowing someone was talking about you really that helpful? Besides, even on the internet, people don't tell you everything they know about you. They keep secrets. Every time he thought about this, it got so convoluted. It was difficult to think about it without being confusing to anyone other than himself. That wasn't to say that he didn't understand it. He did. But trying to get into it would take so much effort for such a simple issue... not that he hadn't put in more effort for less.

He sighed. It wasn't like this was the first time he had been embarrassed because of some silly social conventions. But the last time he had been so embarrassed, his phone hadn't been blown up like this.

He had had to read through 214 messages. That was more than most of the Discord servers he was in texted overnight.

Not that every single text was about the kiss, of course, but a majority of them were related to it or the party. For a moment, he wished they would forget he existed and spam Garroth. Then he felt bad. Garroth was probably drowning in texts too. He shouldn't wish the other any more pain. It was just... This was annoying. Enervating, even. Drama, drama, drama. What a nuisance.

He sighed, lugging a heavy hand through his messy hair. He supposed he might have had it coming. He had always been rather fond of pranks, having pulled them on many of his friends. While the kiss wasn't necessarily a prank, perhaps it was revenge. Bad karma catching up with him. What horrendous luck.

Oh well. He snapped himself from his woeful haze, forcing himself to get to his feet. Pain shot through his body as he stretched his muscles, but he ignored it and moved to get dressed. Such was life.

As he shambled towards his closet, he snagged the orange bottle from his bedside and held down the little tab as he unscrewed the lid. He popped two of the blue pills in his mouth and tried to ignore the taste as he dry swallowed and dragged on some clothes. He didn't care what he was wearing, so long as he didn't accidentally flash one of his roommates. That was the last thing he needed right now.

Heading out into kitchen, he gave a tired glance around the room, finding nobody there. As he checked the living room, he found the place abandoned. Huh. He patted his pockets for his phone, wondering what time it was before realizing he didn't have his phone. He must have left it in his room.

He turned around, trudging back towards his room and grabbing his phone from where it indeed lay siting on his bed. Then he slogged out to the kitchen, still feeling quite dreadful. He needed sustenance. Wow, how dramatic. No, brain. He needed food.

He scavenged the cabinets, dragging his eyes across their contents before checking the fridge. Of course, there was a lot of food, but none of it was all that appealing. He hummed, deciding to suck it up and make himself a sandwich. He would at least get rid of some of the gross contents of their fruit and vegetable drawers that way.

He pulled out some sliced deli ham, along with lettuce, a sizable tomato, pickles, cheese, and mayonnaise. He had always been a fan of ham and bologna, but they didn't have bologna. He'd have to add that to their Alexa shopping list... at some point. He was too tired to deal with it misinterpreting his tired voice right now.

He grabbed a couple slices of bread from the bread box, sighing as he began to prepare his sandwich. He was so tired, he would honestly rather sleep... but oh well. He slowly spread the mayonnaise onto the bread with a knife he had just grabbed from the silverware drawer. After that came the lettuce and the cheese, cushioning the ham as he inelegantly draped it across them. He then began to slice the tomato he had grabbed, slowly sawing through the reddened skin. Its slightly overripe pink-clear guts spilled gracefully out, though still attached to the rind of the fruit by the tissue of the meat. He put a few slices on the sandwich before struggling with the pickle jar. He eventually prevailed—though not with ease—and put a generous helping of pickles on the bread. He then stared at the conglomeration of food groups called a sub and put away the items that made up its delicious being. He rinsed the knife he had used under the sink, bagged the leftover tomato, and ate his sandwich.

It didn't taste great.

He sighed, having put in too much effort not to eat it. As he ate, he ruminated on the events of yesterday. He didn't really want to, but it was all he could think about besides the empty house. Knowing his roommates, he had either missed something important or was still dreaming. Still, he could taste the slightly soggy lettuce of his sandwich, the way the pickles caught up in the texture of the tomatoes so they each tasted like the other. If this was a dream, then his brain really wanted to torture him.

Remembering how he had wanted to check the time, he brawled with his pocket until it finally released his phone. He then put pressure on the power button with his thumb and glanced down at it. Noon. Huh. He supposed that was the time when people did stuff. Wow. How poetic. Like nobody else did anything at other times. You understand what he meant. Anyway... It made sense that his roommates would be out and about at this time. They normally left in the morning to exercise, came back at varying times to shower and relax, and then went out to do something or busied themselves around the house playing games or talking or—on rare occasion—being productive.

He hummed, putting his phone away. He had caught a glimpse of his Notification Center, and it seemed the "Christmas Kiss" (as it was now being called amongst friends) has still not died down as a discussion topic. If anything, it was now prominent now. Someone had briefly changed topics to discuss a cat and a YouTube video they thought was funny, and then it was back to the kiss. He wished it would be put down like the problematic child-biting wolverine it was instead of sticking around and making itself an even bigger nuisance. Plenty more interesting stuff had happened at that party. The kiss wasn't the only notable event.

...And he was getting off-topic. Not like he had an alternative. Perhaps that was why the kiss was so popular; Nobody had other things to do. After the Christmas party, the only other thing they were probably doing was celebrating individually and enjoying their alone time. Having a discussion topic gave them something to do other than sit around watching Christmas movies, eating loads of sweets, and pretending their feet weren't cold under three or so thick blankets.

He sighed, slouching off into the living room. Speaking of blankets... He could really use a nap. Or at least lie down for a while and do nothing. Yes, he had just been in bed, but the cold made him feel tired and sluggish. He yawned, brushing his hands over his arms. He could feel the tingle that ran up his arms in the form of goosebumps when his frigid fingers made contact with his skin. Freezing...

He flopped down on the couch, pulling a sloppily-folded fuzzy blanket over himself and pulling a pillow under his head. With a yawn, he grabbed the remote and clicked through the channels in search of something to watch. By the time he had found White Christmas, his eyes were sagging shut. He barely managed to click it and thus start it playing before he was out like a light.