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.

at her antics; even drunk, she was

her head, Quintessa mumbled,

said, "Dizzy? Rest against

disdain

the morning, both Snow and Jonathan were passed out, and there was

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

lifted Quintessa in his arms, "My girl, I'm taking her home. As

helping Snow

then Snow

and said, "Quinn,

I

like you. Tyrone's no good for you

can't

he

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

said, "Strip

bill, and rode back

drunkards-he didn't dare to

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