Waking up with a bad headache and mouth tasting like someone died in it was not the way Zizi had planned his morning. He winced and blindly reached over to the side to find one of his sunglasses he always kept on the table.
He slid them on and slowly got out of bed. He made his way to the bathroom and splashed water over his face and brushed his teeth, refusing to look in the mirror so he would see his pitiful face. He didn’t even what time it was, nor did he even know what day.
Zizi pats his pockets, remembering he had slipped his phone into his pocket the previous day. His phone wasn’t there. He lets out a groan and looked through the cabinet. He takes a couple painkillers, washed them down with water before making his way to his room. He looks around for a bit, pushing empty bottles o
