River did not have time to be this hungover. He was young, he wasn’t even supposed to get hangovers! Mixing that many different alcohol types probably hadn’t helped… and the lack of water he’d taken in for the last twelve hours could be entirely responsible for his skull-splitting headache. He rubbed his face into the sheet under him, buried beneath his duvet, basking in darkness.

He needed to get up. His alarm had gone off twice. He poked his face out and huffed and puffed until his eyes had adjusted to the mild light in the room. It was nine-ish. He shuffled his way up onto his knees, keeping his blankets over his shoulders. On his bedside table was a stale cup of water, he gulped it down desperately and sighed. There was no time for this. He could feel sorry for himself once he got to the cosplay club’s reserved room. A whole morning of mindless painting, that would fix him.

He struggled up and out of yesterday’s clothes - including Elliott’s jacket. More giant laundry to do… He wasn’t in the mood to look cute and flowery today, all he wanted was to hide in a fluffy shell. Thick jogging pants and a matching oversized hoodie fit his cosy hopes perfectly.

All supplies would be provided by the cosplay club, so he stuffed his half-charged phone and keyring set into his pockets and bumbled downstairs for a gallon of water to keep him alive enough to reach his destination.

He was gulping his second glass, head bent over the sink, when Ember sauntered in. The submissive froze a few feet into the room.

“River? You okay?”

“Hmm?” River swallowed and put the cup to one side, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Yeah, sorry.” He laughed awkwardly. “I’m hanging.”

“You came in pretty late.”

“Sorry, I hope you weren’t disturbed.”

“No, just kinda worried about you.”

“Worried?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged and looked away. “You left the party without saying anything to anyone. Then when we get back we see your alpha’s car outside. And now…” She nodded at him. “This.”

“This?”

“Your scent mark.”

River sniffed experimentally. The fade had begun. “Oh.”

“If you wanna talk, you know I’m always here for you.”

“Yeah. No. It’s fine.” He cleared his throat, no longer dry from the hangover. “I’ve got to go, actually, meeting some people.”

Ember watched him flee with sad eyes.

Shit, he probably looked like a complete wreck. He hadn’t been dumped. He was just hungover. But he didn’t have time to press the issue, he had a long walk to power through and all the water he’d slurped down was already sloshing in his stomach. If he opened his mouth again too soon he’d throw it back up.

×

Every sniff had River on edge. He’d arrived at the cosplay club’s rented out space slightly late, but it wasn’t his tardiness that turned every head at his arrival. The pity in their faces was unbearable.

He assured them he was fine and they said, “Of course you are!” with the tone of a mother assuring her child she really did believe there was a monster under the bed as they claimed. He told them that he was just hungover and they shared quick looks of concern between themselves. No one believed him, and he soon realised there was no point attempting to plead his case.

He picked a quiet spot to sit on the floor and paint the costume pieces he had been assigned. It was monotonous work, but it was better than needing to think. Or trying to argue.

The whispers were all around. They thought they were being kind, he supposed. Attempting to hide reality from him. He could still hear bits and pieces, though.

“-got into a fight at the party-”

“-came to drag him out-”

“-car almost hit them outside-”

“-doing shots with dominants-”

It was all bullshit. He wasn’t some off-the-rails party boy. And his alpha mate hadn’t had to drag him out in a jealous rage. As if any dominant would get that close to him carrying an alpha’s scent.

He finished the items he’d agreed to paint and didn’t offer his services for any extra. Leaving was more important to him than being helpful. He needed to be somewhere that he wasn’t treated like he was a bomb about to go off at any moment.

Savannah followed him out the door and they walked in silence until they were free of curious ears.

“Rowan told me you were looking forward to the scent mark fading,” she said. “But you look terrible.”

“I’m hungover,” River groaned.

“Did you leave with him last night?”

“He gave me a lift. He wasn’t at the party he just came to pick me up.” River sighed. “I’d had a lot to drink and I wanted to get home quickly and safely. And I did.”

“He didn’t take advantage?”

River was severely losing his patience. “He’s an alpha,” he said sharply. “He doesn’t need an omega to be drunk as a skunk if he wanted to take advantage.” Savannah’s horrified expression cooled him off a little. Good. You should be horrified at the reality of being an omega in a big, scary world. “And no, he didn’t.”

“I’m glad.”

“Look, I know you’re just looking out for me, but I really am fine. I need a nap and some vitamin juice and maybe a box of chicken nuggets.”

“Okay. Well, I’m glad you got what you wanted, then.”

“Thanks.” He hated that he sounded bitter. He wasn’t. He was just tired and thirsty and sore in the skull.

Savannah left his side to return to the cosplay club. River kept walking, he had another obligation to attend before he could retire for the day.

×

His afternoon activity was volunteering with the elderly as part of the afternoon tea society. Heather was staggered at the fading scent River arrived with.

“Oh, darling!”

“I’m just hungover.”

“Then… maybe it would be best for you to go home and get some rest.” She gave him a look with raised brows as though sharing a very obvious secret. “Take some time for you.”

As the other volunteers in the hall caught a whiff, they did their best to pretend they weren’t staring at him while they laid out doilies and filled tea pots.

“I’m fine.” River attempted to enter again.

Heather stepped into his path. “River, we have enough volunteers today. Please, just let your heart settle before trying to throw yourself back in the deep end.”

“I’m not heartbroken,” River hissed.

“Of course not, darling. That alpha is the one who will be beside himself!”

“Heather!”

“Take the afternoon off.” Heather took him by the shoulders and turned him, walking him out. “Do some self-care. A bath bomb or something.” They were out on the street now. “Eat lots of ice-cream and maybe let out a few tears.” She gave him a stiff hug. “Come back when you’re ready.”

River had lost the will to argue that he was perfectly ready to let old people talk to him about their horrid grandchildren and serve tea and finger sandwiches. He nodded wearily.

“I’ll message you.”

“Please do, darling.”

×

“Just a hundred pounds and not a penny more.”

He had his safety money. A wad of cash under his mattress for emergencies. One hundred pounds for a little more time, to avoid the humiliation of every person he came into contact with assuming he’d been ditched by some alpha.

River curled in on himself. He was back in bed, hydrated, and snacking on a bag of crisps bigger than his head. The salt would help with his electrolytes or something… probably… maybe…

He sighed.

Another twelve days and it would be the end of term. If he got another ten off Elliott, he could spend his break letting his scent wear off in the privacy of his own home. Answering to no one. Back for the summer term fresh with only his own scent for people to comment on.

He understood now why submissives took to hiding away after a break-up. He had always thought it so dramatic, to stay inside as though you were in mourning. Turns out, there was a practical reason. Everyone and their mother could smell the disintegration of a scent mark, and it wasn’t the low-key event River had believed it to be. All day he’d been walking around with what was effectively a sandwich board declaring himself newly single, but still stinking of the dominant who had once had him.

And why did they assume he had been broken up with? He could very well have told his alpha mate to go kick rocks. Omegas could take charge, too. He wasn’t a trophy mate just because he was an omega. Not that he wouldn’t look great on Elliott’s arm.

River bit the tip of his finger, missing the crisp entirely.

Who cared what they looked like together?

He did.

River shoved more crisps in his mouth, gnashing them like he was angry at the potatoes that made them. He cared. He hated the way they had all looked at him today, the assumptions, the pity, the invasive concern. He hated all of it.

Just a bit more time. It would line up perfectly. He had no plans for his break, only heading back home. He could sleep the weeks away while Elliott’s stink broke down and washed off. A detox, almost, he could turn his bedroom into a spa. He didn’t need to be the talk of the town.

He grabbed his phone with salt-encrusted fingers.

Are you free tomorrow? Was wondering if we could discuss top-up terms?

Elliott sent him an address and a time. A coffee shop a few roads away from campus. River sent him back a thumbs up and a smiley face emoji.