Marco's head felt as though it were going to cave in on itself, or at least he wished that it would if it meant he wouldn't have to deal with it hurting. He thought that, at the very least, his hangover would have faded by the afternoon, but he had not been taking into account how infrequent it was that he drank more than a couple of beers. Marco had also neglected to eat anything this morning, which could have also had a great deal to do with the pounding in his skull. After he had seen Drina to her apartment, he had waited outside until he made sure that she was asleep. Of course, aside from the light being on or off, Marco had no real way of knowing that she had gone to bed or tripped over a lamp. The walk to his car had been entertaining at best. First he couldn't remember where exactly he had parked it. He thought he had left it in the parking lot near the bar, but after returning there and getting over the initial anger of thinking that someone had stolen it, Marco realized that he had left it at the Budget Lodge. He really couldn't be bothered to care about much else once he finally found his car and unlocked the door. Marco had woken up in the morning to find that while most of his body was actually in the backseat of the station wagon, the rest of him was hanging out the back of the open car door. There was much to be said about a place where he could get away with sleeping most of the morning like that without anyone stopping to ask questions. If he had been left to his own devices, Marco would have been content to curl up in the trunk of the vehicle and slept for the rest of the afternoon, but the nagging question as to whether or not Drina had made it into work all right kept him from going back to sleep. At least now he could actually go inside the restaurant and speak to her directly, though the thought of Chinese food on his uneasy stomach made him want to be sick.
He decided that there were too many people on the street, at least, too many for his liking. One of the things he hated about being a were, a hungover were, was that sound was naturally amplified. The sound of voices on the street, the multitude of conversations, was like a symphony of pain inside his head. He was going to have to stop at the drug store for some aspirin before he met with Drina. Marco was deep in thought, trying his best to block out all the noise, when a shout broke through it all. He looked up expecting to see something horrible happening to someone -- well, he supposed "horrible" was exactly what the girl would call it. Marco had been caught out in public in his underwear before; he didn't like to think about his time on the streets after his father died, but suffice to say, it came in handy that he had the ability to call up a glamour. There was a moment's hesitation where Marco stood and genuinely considered whether or not it was a good idea to go over to help the girl. The last time he had gotten it into his head to help someone, it had not ended as well as he'd hoped. No one else was really moving to help her, unless they thought that giggling would fix the situation. Marco ran over to her, throwing up a glamour of the first skirt he could think of. "Hey!" he called out as he finally reached her. "I, um... got you covered. No one can see your... er... no one can see..." Marco was flustered as his brain fought to focus on anything but her underwear. "I can walk you home. I think I need to to make sure it stays."