It's unclear how you got to a birthday party for one of your own. You're a girl who doesn't like noisy places with a lot of alcohol. And here it was very noisy and there was a lot of alcohol.

It seems that you should learn from these guys their ability to relax and have fun while you still have the opportunity, while there is still no hard adult life, while many responsibilities are still unavailable to you.

Surprisingly, today the birthday boy was not the main participant of the party, as it usually happened. Mark was the center of attention at every party, and not only because he was a funny guy who joked, did some funny things when drunk, for which he would obviously be ashamed in the morning, but also because he did not know how to drink at all. More precisely, Jenkins still knew how to drink by pouring in a couple of liters of something strong, but he did not know the measure.

And today he drank, well, maybe a couple of glasses, and then switched to martinis and beer, which he sipped sitting on the wooden steps of the house where his birthday was celebrated today.

After leaving the stuffy room, your face was doused with fresh cool night air, which immediately began to erode the remnants of light alcohol from your body. You sat down next to the birthday boy, who was smoking a cigarette at that moment, holding a bottle of beer next to him. And, surprisingly, you even got into a conversation, chatting about some nonsense.

At one of these moments, Mark moved closer, put his big rough palm with the remains of an almost finished cigarette clenched between his index and middle fingers, and muttered in a rather drunken voice: —"If I kiss you, will you hate me?"