Felice groaned as he slowly woke up. He had been up practicing dances for a quite some time the night before he had finally calmed down enough to go to bed. As it was this morning, his head seemed to hurt for no apparent reason, and the rest of body ached. It wasn't from exercise; he always went through the proper steps to avoid that. Was it the bed? Stupid low-budget-- what was this?! How the heck did he get blood all over his arm?! Why was the stuff near his bed moved? 

The amber-eyed boy began shouting curses in Italian as he ran to the bathroom to do something about the mess and bandage himself up. Upon cleaning his arm, he discovered the hole left in his arm from a needle of some sort. 
...Merda. 

Quickly placing the bandage on the injury, he quickly pulled on his vestments and bolted from the room. The boy figured that he probably wasn't the only one to lose blood during the night, and if that was true, they were in trouble. He had wanted to avoid the kitchen this morning anyway, since he wasn't ready to go back and face those two after yesterday's events. Besides, he hated making breakfast.