The mirror in Will's bedroom hasn't moved since the last time Daniel saw him. Neither has Will.
But everything's changed anyways.
Sprawled out on his bed, Will was snoring, still in the same clothes he wore yesterday. The room was even more of a mess, what with dirty clothes and pizza boxes covering the floor. He doesn't bother hiding the bottles of whiskey anymore. They're mostly empty anyways.
He's only still for a few moments before stirring, face grimacing as he forced himself upright, using all of his arm muscles to get there. Rubbing his eyes, he slowly made his way to the mirror, tenderly placing pressure on the heel of his right foot. His gruffy unshaven face twists in pain when he lifts his shirt to reveal a pattern of purple and black bruises, his face concentrated as he tested the biggest splotch. Possibly a broken rib too as he purposefully exhaled and expanded his chest. They were souvenirs of a drunken brawl he started.
Only sissies sit and cry over feelings anyways.
Lighting up a cigarette, he shoved his shirt back down and left the room. Then the vision was gone.