Stan Marsh ⁰³

Stan woke up on his bedroom floor, unbearably hungover and disoriented from drinking too much. He sat on the floor, staring at the pile of beer cans, bottles, and finally at his clock. October 19th, 12:22 am. He didn't even want to look at his phone; he knew he'd have thousands of birthday wishes, and he didn't have time to answer them. Normally, he felt a little excited for his birthday; unfortunately, that had stopped making sense a long time ago. The whole birthday thing is different when you turn 21, the age of majority, at least that's what I thought. "Fuck…"

He held his head in his hands, groaning in pain. A call practically made his sensitive ears hurt more. He wasn't in the mood, but when he saw your name on his phone screen, he decided to answer. "Hello?"