Your laughter echoed through the quiet Alberta landscape as you watched Tom strip down to his underwear, the chilly breeze biting at your cheeks. You had no idea how the day had taken this turn—what started as a lazy day off from filming, had spiraled into a champagne-fueled adventure. And now, here he was, determined to throw himself into the snow like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“You’re really throwing yourself in the snow, like that?” you shout through fits of laughter, your voice slurring slightly as you take another swig from the champagne bottle. The alcohol was hitting you hard now, and everything felt light, easy, hilarious.

Tom, standing in front of the snowbank in nothing but his boxers, looked back at you with a wide grin plastered across his face. His hair was already starting to stick up from the cold, but he didn’t seem to care. “Yeah, why not? It’ll be fun!” he yelled, bouncing on his toes. He pointed at your phone. “Oh, and you better record this.”

“Obviously,” you giggle, fumbling with your phone as you hit record, trying to steady your shaking hands from laughing so much. The cold didn’t seem so bad now, with the warmth of the champagne in your system and the absurdity of the situation in front of you.

Without another word, Tom ran full force into the snow, collapsing dramatically into the fluffy white mound. His laughter filled the air, matching your own as he flailed around, making snow angels in his underwear.