"FUCK MY LUCK! Fuck my life! Out of billions of possibilities, this is the power I get? I need to make a fool of myself to gain some power?" Lou blurted out as he sat up abruptly in bed. The dry feeling in his throat had woken him up fully hours before his alarm went off. Now he was sitting on his bed bemoaning his misfortune.

The room spun slightly as he stood, the remnants of last night's revelry littering the floor like fallen soldiers after a battle. Clothes tossed carelessly aside, a glass half-filled with stale water—each a testament to his not-so-glorious evening.

“Great, just great,” he muttered, his voice thick with regret. The echo of his cousins’ laughter, and the flashes of his cringe-worthy antics, all danced mockingly in his memory. The very thought of what happened last night was enough to make his cheeks burn anew. "Note to self: do not drink that much again," he murmured.

Lou staggered to the window and pulled it open, sucking in a gulp of fresh air. It felt as if a splash of water hit his hot face, a slight relief from the throbbing in his head. It was making him feel slightly better even as it made him nauseous.

Then he decided to go to the bathroom and wash his face. He hoped this would make his hangover go away. When washing his face wasn't enough, he put his whole head under the faucet. He felt both a little irritated and relieved when the cold water flowed down the back of his neck.

When he returned to his room with his hair dripping, he remembered the reason why he had drunk so much last night. He was trying to get rid of his shyness so that he could test his gift. But what was that gift, really? A growth-type power? He had never heard such a thing before.

Lou tried to concentrate on his gift, a curious sensation stirred within him. It wasn't just a vague idea; it felt like a tangible mechanism clicking into place in the depths of his mind. He focused harder, curious and slightly apprehensive about what might happen next.

Suddenly, as if triggered by his intent focus, a clear, vivid display materialized in his mental vision. It wasn't hovering in the room but existed somewhere within him, accessible and visible only through his inner eye. The words "Power of Cringe" boldly declared themselves at the top of this mental interface, stark and unavoidable. Below, a new notification blinked into existence:

"You are Level 5. You have 8 stats to distribute."

It dawned on him that he could invoke this display whenever he delved into thoughts about his power, pulling up a display that allowed him to assign points and potentially alter how this bizarre ability affected his life and those around him. "What are these stats all about? Do I really get stat points when I make people cringe?

Following his realization, Lou concentrated deeper, channeling his thoughts toward the newly discovered capabilities. As he did, a display materialized in his mind's eye, clearer and more defined than before.

The display listed his attributes, detailed in an organized manner, each with a corresponding value. The labels were full and formal, echoing the stat sheets he had seen in tabletop games, but now they were eerily personal:

Strength (STR): 2

Dexterity (DEX): 3

Intelligence (INT): 3

Constitution (CON): 2

Wisdom (WIS): 2

Charisma (CHA): 1

Each number was a stark representation of his current capabilities, low and unimpressive, reflecting his physical and mental state. The realization that these were not just abstract numbers, but aspects of himself that could potentially be altered, gave Lou a mix of apprehension and excitement. It was a unique insight into his inner workings, a direct interface with his personal development through the lens of his unusual power.

Could he tweak these stats to make this absurd power work for him? His mind raced through the possibilities—maybe enhancing his Dexterity could make him more agile, or perhaps boosting his Constitution could make him a tank. The choices hovered in the air, demanding his decision.

A rumble from his stomach interrupted Lou's focus on the virtual stats display. With a rueful shake of his head, he thought, I'll figure out these stats after some food. Can't tackle superpowers on an empty stomach.

Shaking off the remnants of his grogginess, Lou shuffled towards the door, each step steadier than the last. He was determined to fuel up and then dive into figuring out just how to distribute these stats... "Who knows? Maybe this strange power has a silver lining after all."

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Lou tiptoed into the kitchen, the morning light spilling through the windows, casting long shadows across the tiled floor. The house was still, the silence a stark contrast to last night’s cacophony. There were still some colorful balloons drifting on the ceiling.

He opened the fridge and eyed the leftovers from the party—slices of pizza and a bowl of untouched salad. When he tried to find the birthday cake he remembered what happened to it. Now it was sitting at the top of the trash bin.

Before eating something he decided to brew some coffee. He was still a little tipsy from the night before. As he was brewing the coffee he was standing there without thinking anything.

After getting himself some coffee, he grabbed a slice of pizza, the cheese cold and rubbery but oddly comforting. As he ate, he glanced at the mangled cake. The sight of it—icing smeared like an abstract painting—brought back a flash of embarrassment. "Faceplanted right into it," he muttered, the memory of the squish of frosting against his cheek causing a grimace.

Lou was still chewing when he heard footsteps. His father appeared in the doorway, squinting against the brightness, a hand shielding his eyes. "Morning, or whatever it is," George mumbled, his voice hoarse. The smell of coffee seemed to pull him fully into the kitchen as if he were on autopilot.

"Morning," Lou replied, pointing to the trash can with a wry smile. "Cake for breakfast?"

George chuckled, shaking his head, "That’s one hell of a waste of cake, and I didn’t even get a chance to taste it." he said, reaching instead for the coffee pot. The sound of coffee pouring into the mug was rich and deep. He took a long sip, the steam curling up around his face, and sighed in relief.

Lou watched his father, seeing the same tired lines etched around his eyes that probably mirrored his own. "Rough night?"

"You could say that," George replied, setting the coffee down with a thud. "Sorry for the big party, by the way. I told Julia that you didn't want that. But you know her."

"Yeah, I know her." Lou's voice said, resignation and tenderness in his tone as it dropped off. He stepped back, folding his arms as he leaned against the counter. "It was a lot, but I guess it turned out alright."

George nodded, taking another sip of his coffee, his eyes softening. "You handled it well, considering the... surprise." His tone held a hint of apology, acknowledging the party had spiraled beyond their initial plans.

Lou sighed, the tension easing from his shoulders. "It was a mess, wasn't it? But maybe it's what I needed. A big, embarrassing kickoff to my new life."

"Speaking of which," George said in an apologetic tone "how are you feeling about this 'Power of Cringe'? I didn't mean to laugh yesterday. It just caught me off guard. Sorry about that."

Lou waved his hand in a dismissive "Don't even mention it." gesture. When he thought about his power, he managed a half-smile, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "It's... different," he began, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I think it's a growth-type power? I don't know is that even a thing? Never heard or read of anything like it before. I gained 4 levels when I made people cringe last night."

George raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "A growth-type, huh? That's new to me too. Most powers manifest fully formed. All you do is figure out what you can do with it. Yours sounds more like it evolves."

"Yeah," Lou nodded, feeling a spark of excitement at the acknowledgment. "It's like I have this internal… thing? I can see a display in my mind, showing me my stats and abilities. I guess this is what you call the System."

George's eyes widened slightly. "Yeah, we all have that display. But mine doesn't show any stats or abilities. It only shows the description of our powers."

Lou chuckled, a little more at ease. "Yeah, it shows me things like Strength, Intelligence... even Charisma. But I haven't seen anything about what it actually does. How do I use it, or what does it means to level up these stats."

"That'll probably become clearer as you get more accustomed to it," George suggested, leaning back against the counter. "Systems tend to unfold as you use them. You'll likely unlock and learn more as you go."

Lou pondered this for a moment, his gaze drifting. "I hope so. I could use some guidance on how to make this less embarrassing. Even though this power is interesting I would prefer a more mainstream gift."

George smiled, setting his mug down. "Give it time. You're smart, Lou. You'll figure out the ins and outs. And hey If I understand it correctly, I think you need some guidance to make this way more embarrassing."

"Thanks, Dad. I think I'll test the waters first, see what this can really do," Lou said with a tentative grin, feeling a flicker of excitement amidst the uncertainty. He was starting to see his bizarre new ability not just as a source of embarrassment, but as a field of possibilities waiting to be explored.

"Exactly," George nodded, patting Lou on the back with a supportive smile. "Every power has its use, son. It’s all about how you wield it. Look at me. I could rule the world if I wanted to."

Avoiding getting into the same argument again, Lou decided to agree with his father. "Sure, Dad, I'll follow your footsteps."

With a new resolve, Lou placed his empty coffee mug in the sink, the ceramic clinking against the stainless steel in a small but satisfying conclusion to their morning chat. The comfort of routine tasks, even as minor as cleaning up after breakfast, grounded him, allowing the tendrils of anxiety and excitement to weave a less daunting tapestry of the day ahead.

He turned to face his father again, a thought bubbling to the surface. "Dad, do you think it would be okay if I skipped school today? Just to figure this out a bit more?"

George, leaning against the counter and cradling his coffee mug, considered his son’s words with a thoughtful gaze. After a moment, he nodded. "Take your time, Lou. Today isn’t just another day for you. It's the start of something new, and sometimes, that requires a moment to adjust."

Grateful for the understanding, Lou felt a weight lift from his shoulders. The prospect of a day without the usual pressures of school, where he could focus solely on understanding and controlling his new power, seemed like the most constructive step he could take.

"Thanks, Dad. I really appreciate it," Lou said, his voice carrying a sincerity that reflected his relief. He turned and walked towards his room, his steps lighter than they had been that morning. Each step echoed softly in the quiet house, a rhythmic assurance that he was moving in the right direction.

As he entered his room, closing the door behind him, Lou felt a surge of solitary resolve. Here, in his own space, he could experiment with his power, explore its limits and possibilities without fear of immediate judgment or consequence. It was a chance to turn what had started as a joke into a tool of empowerment.

The thought was empowering, and Lou allowed himself a small smile. Today was not an end, but a beginning—the first true step in understanding the unique path his life was about to take.

Lou sat on his bed and focused on his gift. The system's display appeared in his mind. From there, he navigated to the screen to distribute his Stats. "Let's test this water out," he muttered to himself, assigning his first point to STR.