Last night was fuzzy as hell. He knows he went out drinkign with some buddies, right? After that, it’s just a blur. Did he drink too much? He rubs his head, his hand feeling weird, and, upon actually looking at the thing, it’s caked in dried blood. Did he get in a fight? He sits up, looking around, and finding himself in an alley...
Next to a dead body, who looks like he got the shit beat out of him so bad he choked on his own blood. Fuck, fuck, wait. He scrambles to his feet, already starting to panic. Did he? No, he didn’t, his knuckles aren’t cut up, he obviously didn’t punch anybody, so...why all the blood on HIM? Shit, he has to get out of here, fast. He makes his way to the rooftops, meaning to run home as fast as he can, and wash up, maybe parse out what happened the night before.