Quintessa leisurely sipped her beer, watching as Snow and Jonathan turned red with each gulp.

As more people crowded into the barbecue joint, the sound of drinking games drifted over from the neighboring table. Quintessa found herself drifting into a haze, feeling like the people before her were blurring into duplicates, and the voices around her were drifted further away.

Tyrone, noticing that Quintessa had already emptied two bottles in front of her, quickly snatched the beer bottle from her hand, "Your stomach isn't feeling well. Drink less."

Quintessa blinked, "Wha-what did you say?"

Meeting Quintessa's confused gaze, Tyrone was momentarily lost for words, "Geez, you're drunk?"

Quintessa tilted her head, "Not at all."

Tyrone wrapped an arm around her shoulder, "Alright, alright, if you say so. Here, try some fish. Their grilled fish is decent."

Quintessa took a bite and frowned, "This doesn't taste good."

Quintessa, a bit tipsy from drinking, swayed unsteadily and had trouble sitting up straight. Her gaze was hazy and lost, shed her usual tough exterior, appearing as vulnerable as a lost kitten.

Tyrone couldn't help but pinch Quintessa's cheek, which she immediately shook off, trying to swat his hand away.

her antics; even drunk,

head,

quickly said, "Dizzy? Rest against me for a

watched from the side, disdain written

were passed out, and there

alcohol tolerance, they still wanted to compete for girls with him? They were just asking

Quintessa in his arms, "My girl, I'm taking her

nodded, helping

then Snow

hand and said,

I

like you. Tyrone's no good for

he can't give you

he would have kicked him,

still bad-mouthing him. What did he mean he couldn't provide Quinn with a happy marriage? How could he not. Tyrone frowned. Marriage?

Tyrone said, "Strip

and rode back to the hotel on the electric

glanced at the two drunkards-he didn't

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