Nothing is distracting enough. Not the dull throbbing of his head; not the viewed motions of stirring lemon and honey into tea; not the sound of the watch on his wrist, tick-tocking in his ear, because the hand attached has dug its nails into his hair- both contributing to his headache.

But none of that is important. What is important to Kevin at this moment is that his phone is completely silent. The cell phone sitting on the table is stagnant, not lit up by a new text.

And man, is that adding to the twist in Kevin's stomach.

His nails dig further into his hair, grasping scalp now. He furrows his eyebrows. Maybe I should have just turned around and talked to him…A chirpy "This should help, Kev!" from Nazz startles Kevin out of his thoughts. Her volume made him wince, and as she sets a cup of ginger tea in front of him, she gives him an apologetic look. "Sorry," she says in a softer voice. "You alright?"

"Yeah," he mumbles. Despite the heat he can feel coming off of the teacup, the dryness of his throat and the twist in his stomach push Kevin to try drinking the hangover cure anyways. The results are slightly burnt tongue and lips, the removal of his hand from his hair, and a raised eyebrow from Nazz. "That was stupid," she says in the same soft voice. "No kidding…"

Kevin glances at his phone again. Still nothing. He's probably busy…he thinks. But, the twist in his stomach whispers to him, does that really make you feel better? Kevin grimaces at the thought. No, it doesn't, but he is hungover and confused and tense and has burnt lips and that damn Double Dork has not answered his very simple text- and while some of these problems are direct effects of his own stupidity, Kevin dislikes them all.

"Kev?" Again, Nazz's voice wakes Kevin. He glances at her. She wears a sympathetic look. Unlike him, Nazz had had the good sense stay within her limits last night, and while she had not enjoyed the same impulse-driven night as Kevin had, she did not have the stress of dealing with that night in the morning. Also unlike him, Nazz was probably on good terms with Edd at the moment. Maybe I should ask her to talk to hi- no, that's stupid, Kevin thinks. Last night was…rough, but I'm a man, and goddamn it, I deal with my problems…kinda.

Kevin is at Nazz's mostly because he wouldn't deal with his problems. "Yeah?" he replies, ignoring the realization. His ego really does not need another blow this morning. "I…was wondering…if you remember last night." Kevin's hand finds its way back to his head, his nails back in his scalp. "Yep." Nazz blinks. "Oh." Speaking of blows to the ego.

An awkward silence falls over them. Kevin sips his still-hot tea, careful not to burn himself again. The memories of last night are blurred, and Kevin had initially woken believing the entire thing a dream- but the realization he was in Edd's house, the hit of dry throat, migraine, and nausea, and Edd's treatment of him shook that belief from him.

Edd's expression to Kevin approaching him is stuck in his mind, and the memory tightens the twist.

After a few minutes, Nazz breaks the silence: "How do you feel?"

Kevin raises an eyebrow at her, teacup half-raised. "What?"

Nazz repeats the question.

Kevin opens his mouth to answer, but no words come out. It's not from a lack of an answer- Kevin feels a lot right now- but-

"Greetings, Kevin! I hope the shame and headache of last night have left you!" Rolf's accented voice sails into Nazz's kitchen, followed by the man himself. Kevin grips his head tighter and quickly takes a gulp of his tea. Good fucking God! If his head weren't still killing him, he would be killing Rolf.

"Noooot quite, Rolf," Nazz says with half a grin. She, of course, had known Rolf was coming over, so she'd left the door unlocked for him. She probably should have warned Kevin, though, or warned Rolf of the intensity of Kevin's hangover. Rolf looks at Kevin and smiles awkwardly. "Oops. Sorry, Kevin. But you take care of shame, yes? You could not have left the Ed-boy's house without apologizing, right?"

At this point, Kevin's hand is not enough. He releases his head and lets it slide down his arm. A bright red blush has settled on his cheeks. "Shame. Not. Taken. Care. Of. Apology. Made," he reports through clenched teeth.

God fucking damn, guys, I really don't wanna talk about this! I don't even know how it happened!

At the thought Kevin lifts his face from the table. How did it happen? It wasn't just the booze, Kevin is sure. If I really wanna go back, I guess it started when we were kids…but that's not right either…

No, this started right before school started this year…

Whoo! One down! The next...however many chapters will be flashbacks from this point, explaining how this point- of a hungover and anxious Kevin- was reached.

Next chapter will be out soon! I'll try to write more than one at once, so the story gets updated more quickly.