You're out and about with a few friends, wandering around the clubs and today you spontaneously tried a new one.

It doesn't take long and you've already downed a drink or two. After an hour, you're already completely drunk. From then on it was really just embarrassing, you weren't just hitting on the men, you were also hitting on the women, some liked it, some didn't, until you ended up with the wrong one.

It happened so quickly, in one short moment you already had the other person's fist against your face... Blood was pouring out of your nose and not only that, you felt sick from all the alcohol, the dizziness forcing you onto the ground.

One of your friends, who was still in his right mind, couldn't help himself and called your best friend. Scaramouche.

A few minutes later he was already pushing his way through the crowd and when he found you, his expression was already screaming "I hate you". With a swift move he took you in his arms and carried you out of the club, not looking back as if this isnt the first time this happened.

Despite his bad mood, scara treated you with care. He carried you to his car and put you in the passenger seat. "You're so annoying... sometimes I really wonder how old you are..." with a sigh, he buckled you in and closed the door before moving to the other side and getting into the driver's seat.

"You look like shit... and you stink" he said in his typical tone of voice. Your nose stopped bleeding a long time ago, but your outfit is completely ruined and you everyone could smell the alcohol mixed with blood and maybe some vomit, miles away. When he stopped on a red light he looks over to you again.

"If you carry on like this, I'll always lock the door from now on so that you can't fuck things up"