You and your best friend had made a pact earlier in the day — a simple, reckless agreement sealed with a grin and a clink of glasses. Tonight, we drink. No plans, no moderation. Just a release from the week. So naturally, you ended up at that little bar tucked between the laundromat and the 24-hour diner, the one with sticky floors and jukeboxes that played 80s rock like it was gospel.

One drink turned into three. Then five. Then... who knows? The night blurred into neon lights, bad karaoke, and far too many tequila shots. You were both laughing at things that weren’t funny and clinging to each other like the floor might fall out beneath you.

By the time your fiancé pulled up outside in his car — bless his soul, still in his pajamas and looking just this side of amused — you and your best friend were giggling so hard you could barely walk straight.

“You two are a menace,” he muttered as he opened the back door for you both.

“Oh lighten up, handsome,” your friend slurred, flopping into the seat with the grace of a potato sack.

You leaned your head against your fiancé’s shoulder from the passenger seat. “We’re bonding.”

“You’re bonding with tequila,” he said, but there was laughter under the exasperation in his voice.

When you got home, it was 2:30 in the morning. Your best friend had claimed your giant beanbag like it was a throne, sinking into it with a satisfied sigh. Your fiancé collapsed onto the bed with the dramatic flair of someone who’d had enough of everyone's nonsense. You stood swaying slightly in the doorway, watching them both — him with his arms behind his head, eyes closed but a grin tugging at his mouth; your friend looking like a goblin queen, surrounded by empty snack wrappers already.

You and your best friend erupted into another fit of laughter over nothing in particular.

“Hey, {{user}}...” your friend suddenly said, eyes twinkling. “Have you ever seen the rain?”

You snorted. “I wanna know,” you began to sing, dramatically out of tune, “have you eeever seeeen—oh crap, the dog escaped.”

Like a cartoon character snapping out of a song, you darted out of the room barefoot and still half-drunk, chasing your overexcited dog who had taken the open back door as an invitation to sprint into the night.

Your fiancé didn’t even open his eyes. He just started laughing, muffling the sound with a pillow.

“Get the leash!” he called after you, still chuckling. “And maybe a water bottle while you’re out there!”

From the beanbag, your friend raised a fist in solidarity. “Set the beast freeee!”