Chapter Text
It had been six months.
Six months had passed since Jack Walten and Rosemary Peony became a couple. To most of their friends, this was something worth celebrating.
Felix Kranken was not among those people, but no matter how much he moaned and whined about not wanting to attend this... so called celebration, guilt kept creeping up on him whenever he even considered ignoring Rosemary's invitation. It was clear she put a great deal of effort into the letter. But of course Felix envied that about her instead of being a supportive friend - the seamless perfection she seemed to carry everywhere, even in something as insignificant as an invitation letter.
Rosemary's perfection wasn't the only thing Felix envied.
She had good grades, great friends, an amazing boyfriend, and money. How could he not be jealous? She had support flowing toward her from multiple directions, and he was just a college dropout with no future goals, mounting debt, alcoholism, and a job he despised.
His family life wasn't all that good either, when his mother found out about his drinking problem she kicked him out - said he was a liability to the family name.
He'd never blame her, his own mother, but damn, he'd rather eat her dry, flavorless meals right now than spend another night at the cockroach-infested motel that housed felons. Watching those drug deals happen outside his fogged up window left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Of course, he would never condone such actions.
But atleast those people didn't have to spread themselves thin across multiple twelve-hour shifts at the diner.
It was nearing the end of the six-month anniversary party, the celebration that Rosemary had so graciously hosted in the comfortable dorm room she shared with Linda. The room was far from spacious and luxurious , it was actually quite cramped and could only fit a handful of their friends; Jack, Linda, Susan, Charles, Rosemary, and Felix himself.
Felix was on his fifth glass of beer that night, uncaring about anything around him. Maybe he was too drunk to care. Maybe he was full of hatred. He didn't care enough to find out.
At some point in the middle of the night, Felix stood up from his seat, ready to go ahead and congratulate the couple before leaving, but drunkenly swaying around with a half full red cup of beer in hand wasn't the look he thought it was. Linda had already gently asked him if he was okay and if he needed a moment outside, the tone of her voice definitely implying he needed to go and be wasted elsewhere, but he didn't hear most of the words leaving her mouth, his focus being entirely on Jack Walten conversing with his girlfriend by the snack table.
Stumbling around from his spot on the couch to the snack table was definitely not easy, it'd be a miracle if nothing broke along the way. When he finally reached Jack, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and hiccuped out a string of words. "Con- Gratulations, ya know? With the uhh.. Girl."
To say Rosemary felt uncomfortable in the situation was an understatement, her body language radiating discomfort even a drunk guy like Felix could pick up on. But what could he do?
"Thank you, Felix. Let's calm down on the beer, okay?" Jack's soft cadence pulled Felix into an unfocused haze.
Jack had apparently taken the cup from his hand before he could even register it was happening, only realising it was gone when he lifted it to his mouth and finding nothing.
Rosemary must've said something, but Felix didn't catch anything beyond the words "we care", and "are you okay?". It was utterly infuriating - being cared about, even in this drunken state. He felt unworthy.
"Do you need a ride home, Felix?"
Felix snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the other man speak.
God.
How he missed this.
Before Jack ended up in a relationship, Felix and he spoke almost everyday on the landline. About nothing in particular - they mostly spoke about their days, ongoing troubles and anything that could make the silence feel a little less heavy. Not like Jack had many troubles, but Felix was hung up on the way he listened. Or maybe Jack just tolerated him.
At least, that's what he likes to think, he knew Jack listened and probably even worried - but the attention felt wrong somehow, like a sin he indulged in anyway.
When Rosemary entered Jack's life, Felix thought it would be a piece of cake to move on from his bestfriend. But the calls grew fewer, and the conversations got shorter. And that unsettled him, because it felt like something he didn't even know he relied on was quietly being ripped away from under his weak grasp - as if he was bleeding out alone in the dirt.
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A bright light, the smell of burning rubber...
When Felix pried his eyes open, his hand immediately flew towards his face to block the headache-inducing rays of light leaking from the uncovered window.
After a bit of self-induced suffering, he used his other hand to lift himself up so he could sit upright, his finger tips grazing the motel-grade mattress under him
Only then did the realization as well as confusion settle in - he was home. He was home from the party.
Wait, what party was he even at? A groan escaped his lips, his hand rubbing the bridge of his nose. He didn't know whether he should feel embarrassed or grateful toward whoever dragged him here, but he definitely needed to-
Throw up.
Felix gagged and shot up so fast he started seeing stars. So much so he almost vowed to every God out there that he would go cold turkey on alcohol. Not that he seriously meant it, he already craved whiskey and a full day of drinking - which honestly was probably fueled by the embarrassment he felt from blacking out in someone's car.
But he was way too hungover to let that sink in right now.
Sprinting to the bathroom while you're on the verge fainting wasn't a good idea, Felix knew that well enough, but scrubbing puke off the floor is definitely a fate worse than death. Besides, he also didn't possess the proper cleaning capabilities to attempt something like that. Mostly because he refused to pick it up out of ignorance, insisting that he'd be rich enough in the future to hire maids. In the rare occasions he did have to clean up though, he'd usually just use fifty cent baby wipes and prayer.
By the time Felix managed to reach the bathroom door, he flung it open. He barely got the toilet lid up before beer and whatever other contents he consumed the night before came back up with vigour.
This really wasn't worth it.
The puking finally stopped after what seemed like a decade, Felix pulled the string next to the toilet so it would flush.
He staggered over to the sink, turned it on and cupped his hands under the stream to wash the gunk out from between his teeth.
After thoroughly washing out his mouth, he shut the water off and looked up at the mirror. The insecurities he hated seemed more noticeable now. He blamed it on the hangover.
With a sigh, Felix turned towards the door and walked back out into the bedroom, slowly starting clean it looked compared to how he left it yesterday. Did he drunkenly clean the place up? Or did a burglar come in and oh so graciously tidy everything up before stealing a few items?
The second option seemed unlikely, so he scratched the back of his head and padded over to his bed. But before he could sit down, his eyes landed on a folded piece of paper resting on the surface of the nightstand.
He hesitantly picked it up and carefully unfolded it, treating it with immense care. Hope. He had hope that the note came from the person that took him home. And he had hope that the person was named Jack.
'Hey Felix, You were tremendously drunk at the anniversary party last night, so I made the decision of taking you home early. I accidentally stumbled over a beer bottle while I carried you in, so I made sure to clean the place up a little before you woke up so you wouldn't have to go through the same thing I did, haha. But I'm sure you're used to it.
-Jack'
Not even a second went by before Felix crumpled up the note in his fist and hurled it toward a corner in the room. He felt ashamed. Ashamed and humiliated. How could he have been that drunk? Should he call Jack and apologize for very clearly ruining the party? The embarrassment was overwhelmingly nauseating.
To smother the shame, he almost flew over to the tiny kitchen counter and grabbed the half-empty bottle of whiskey. Before he could even think twice, he had already twisted the lid open and brought it to his lips to take a mouthful of alcohol.
What the hell was he thinking drinking that much last night? Did he do something bad for Jack to take him home? Jesus Christ. Maybe going cold turkey isn't that bad of an idea, he would rather go through severe withdrawals than face Jack or any of the other attendees.
And that is exactly what he will be doing this week, avoiding his problems.