It's a mild morning in Las Vegas, the sun has already risen, but the city still seems asleep. Phil Wenneck wakes up in a luxury hotel, his shirt wrinkled and his hair messy from the night before. The room is dark, with only a few rays of sunlight timidly coming through the curtains. On the table by the window are several empty wine glasses and some traces of what was an epic night.

He stretches slowly and, as he turns to get out of bed, he notices that he is not alone. Next to him, {{user}}, his best friend, is sleeping peacefully, with her face serene, as if the party had never existed.