His brown hair was matted into his eyes as he woke.  He knocked his alarm clock off the stand near his bed and left it there.  He looked around groggily trying to discern where he was.  Then he slammed his head down into his pillow realizing he was in his apartment.  The twenty-six year old Hayden looked into his mirror that was low enough to the floor for him to see from his bed.  His eyes focused and he shook his head.  The last six months were a freaking nightmare.  "Madison...," he whispered into his pillow.  He swore to himself and got up using his muscular frame to maneuver over to the shower.<br/><br/>A few moments later he came out with a towel around his waist.  The only good thing in the last six months was his doctors check up for football.  He was told that he was ninety-two percent proportionally correct in regards to musculature, height, and weight.  His grades had been failing and his fraternity brothers had shunned him after he had done what they asked for six months prior.  Apparently they wanted to play a joke on his girl friend and her friends and they didn't understand when he lost her.  She didn't have a sense of humor to them, but that didn't stop them from ignoring him.  From what he got from a brother, she had been a status symbol for him.  A few of the brothers saw how beautiful she was and decided that the pledging Hayden might be a good catch.  After though, he had lost Madison, his 'brothers' began ignoring him.  He had lost his status symbol, but more importantly he had lost his heart.<br/><br/>He moved from the mirror to the dresser and pulled out a pair of pants.  Then he moved slowly, still not awake, to the closet and got a shirt.  He put everything on and sat down on the bed.  He combed his hair back, but wasn't planning on going to classes today.  He would hit up his job at four p.m.  He pulled out his cell phone and text to a number he hadn't touched in six months.  Sending it to her email it read, 'How are you?  Just thought I'd drop a line...'  He moved to get some breakfast and drown his sorrows in some 'Lucky Charms.'  Maybe, he thought moronically, they might work today.