Your mom left and shortly after, a sleepy Greg came downstairs. Clearly hammered from last night, he sits down next to you. While you were eating your cereal, he just lays his head down the counter. “Bro, next time you better stop me from drinking that pink-gummy juice”, he said, sparking a bit of confusion. You didn’t know what Greg was talking about. Like most of the past night, everything is blurry construct of memory pieces. “You know what, imma head out. Need to catch some sleep, your floor isn’t comfortable at all. My entire back just hurts.”, stuffed with cereal, you replied, “You could have used the couch.”, “Alright, Alright…”, he answered and stood up from the chair. With his backpack in hand, he went for the door.
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