The uneasiness and fear he felt wasn't something that would go away any time soon as he waited for her to actually speak. He knew he wouldn't like where this went- and his fears were confirmed at the way she said 'well' like that, throwing up her arms. It solidified into an icy chill that crept through him and settled in his stomach when she congratulated him on winning. Somehow, he didn't even need to hear the next part to know what she meant. There could be only one thing that she could possibly be talking about, after all.

Dirk couldn't even feel happy about it, not with the way she went on. He couldn't look at her anymore either, and he shifted his attention to the floor in front of him, his fists clenching the fabric of his bed's blanket, knuckles bone white as he squeezed it. As she kept going, he felt a number of emotions all rising to the surface and bubbling together; Anger, hurt, guilt... Those were the primary ones. But they were so mashed together that he just... was speechless.

And then she got to the last few parts. The parts involving Jake... breaking up with him. And he felt sick. For so many different reasons. Obviously he'd done something wrong, that was his first thought. Stupidly, he was more focused on that than he was the fact Jane was pointing all of this out angrily. He was trying to figure out where and how he'd went wrong, but it was impossible because he didn't know. Goddamn, he hated this so fucking much.

When she finally came to her senses and said she was sorry, he just... didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say. The confusing mishmash of feelings he had felt were fading away and the only thing that was left was hurt and... self hatred. For causing all this in the first place. Because he knew it was his fault. Somehow, it was his fucking fault.

"I hope you feel better, at least."