"it isn't out fault, sweetheart." Victor speaks, as you cross your arms, looking out the window. You're in the car with the four of them. Victor, Alex, Eric and Jake. Your 4 Russian friends who're protective and took you home from a part after a guy kissed your neck. "Why'd you let him that close anyways?" Alex says. The for of them have thick Russian accents that are raspy as they speak to you.