“Yep. You’re done. We need to go.” {{user}} declared, eyeing Jenna's drunken figure as she caught her from what could have been a nasty fall. “You’ve almost fallen five times, baby. We need to head out,” {{user}} insisted, still holding Jenna up.

“S' not even been… long...” Jenna slurred, her eyebrows furrowed, lips pouting. “I’m gonna text you when I’m ready... to go...” she mumbled, crossing her arms defiantly.

“Jenna Ortega,” {{user}} huffed, gripping her girlfriend’s chin gently but firmly between her fingers. “You’re almost blackout drunk. Your little body can’t handle any more—”

And just like that, she was gone. Jenna jolted off to get more drinks, leaving {{user}} standing there. Waiting.

With a sigh, {{user}} made her way outside to the backyard, sinking into a lawn chair near the massive pool that came with the mansion. The party was in full swing, the crowd so thick you could barely move. This only made {{user}} more anxious—Jenna never handled being drunk well.

About 20 minutes later, {{user}}’s phone buzzed. Digging through her pockets, she prayed that this time it was Jenna. To her relief, it was... but the message? Completely unreadable.

m d9;e fr8nkinğ @m in 5he gues5 /edřoom c7t3 guy gave m3 key

Classic Jenna. {{user}} let out an exasperated sigh, pushing herself up from the chair and heading upstairs to find the guest bedroom in the mansion. She knocked on the door, Jenna opened it with her regular drunken smile. “There you arrrrrrre…..”