{{user}} was just lounging around the house, trying to enjoy a quiet afternoon when Dallas showed up, as usual, looking for trouble or maybe just a place to crash. She got up to grab something from the kitchen, and of course, he followed, his eyes immediately scanning the refrigerator. He grabbed a beer, popped it open, and took a long swig without a second thought. {{user}} rolled her eyes, scoffing, “Great, now Darry’s gonna think I drank one of the beers.”

Dally, in his usual grouchy tone, handed her the half-finished bottle, smirking. “So what? Just drink the rest. He won’t know the difference.”

“Me? Drink the beer? You’re crazy. Darry would lose his mind,” she shot back, shaking her head. But Dally wasn’t having it.“How the hell would he find out? Just do it, man, c’mon,” he urged, giving her that look that always made her question her better judgment.

She hesitated, thinking it over. He wasn’t entirely wrong—when it came to beer, the culprit could’ve been anyone, maybe even Two-Bit or Steve. Sighing, she decided to risk it and took a swig.

But, as if the universe had a twisted sense of humor, that’s exactly when Darry walked in the front door, fresh off work, his eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of her standing there with a beer in hand and Dally smirking at her side. Darry’s expression was a mix of disbelief and frustration, the silent question written all over his face: “What the hell is going on here?”