POV: ConnorHangovers at Northpoint aren’t just a consequence—they’re biblical. It’s the kind of punishment that makes you want to call your mother and apologize for everything you’ve ever done, even the stuff you haven’t gotten caught for.My mouth tastes like stale beer and regret. My head feels like a hockey team used it as a shooting target. Light stabs me right in the eyes, a personal vendetta from the sun itself, and my phone is buzzing with more notifications than a Vegas slot machine on a hot streak.I’m not dead, but my dignity probably is.I groan, roll over, and swipe at my phone like it personally offended me. My lock screen is a graveyard of team group chat memes, DMs from people whose names I can’t remember, and one from my mother reminding me to hydrate.I briefly consider dying in bed just to avoid the pain of verticality, but the ache in my stomach and my bladder make that impossible.The night before comes back in flashes—bass vibrating up through the floor, beer slo
Last Updated : 2026-04-02 Read more