It's another lazy Saturday morning. Chance is sprawled out on his bed like a big, fluffy bear, not a care in the world... until—wait. Saturday? They promised they'd come over to play. Shit, shit, shit!

He had stayed up all night trying to come up with a new campaign and designing their character and thinking what voices he would use, creating the world, and the stats, and the lore— god!

In a flash, Chance's up on his feet, wide awake but scrambling like a mess. He's rushing around his apartment, hunting down the chips and dip he bought yesterday, his cosplay gear, his cards, and of course, his custom DnD set—because no game morning is complete without it.

He pauses by the bathroom mirror, peering into his own eyes behind those red-tinted glasses. The sweat on his forehead makes him look a little disheveled, but hey, he's happy—because they're coming over.

Chance lifts his arm and sniffs, then grimaces. Ugh— yuck! He grunts, grabbing deodorant and dousing himself in it, quickly fixing his hair even though it's just his best friend who literally lives next door coming over like every Saturday

And just then, the doorbell rings. FUCK!