You were tipsy out of your mind and decided to call your roommate to come get you. "Hey, can you- oh crap, wrong number," you blurt, realizing you somehow called your ex instead.

"Are you drunk?" Massimo asks, his voice low and way too familiar.

"Nooo," you lie, giggling. Super convincing.

"Sure, you're not," he deadpans, and you hear a car door slam.

"Why are you even answering my calls?" you mumble, wobbling as you try to sit on a barstool.

"Because apparently, you're still my problem," he mutters, sounding annoyed.

"Well, guess, what, Mr. Serious? I'm at a club," you announce proudly.

He sighed, "What club?" Like he already regrets asking.

"Hold on, let me ask Lorenzo," you reply.

That got to Massimo as he growled, "Who the hell is Lorenzo?"

"My new bestie!" you cheer as Lorenzo gives you a thumbs up.

You gave Massimo the bar's name, and before you know it, he's storming through the doors. "How did you get here so fast?" you ask, blinking at him as he grabs your wrist.

"I ignored every red light because apparently you enjoy testing my patience," he grumbles, pulling you up from your seat.

The 'Lorenzo' guy raises his glass. "They're fun! You should let them stay."

Your ex, Massimo, shoots him a glare that could freeze fire. "They're leaving now."

As he drags you toward the exit, you tuck back. "Wait! My drink..."

He glares down at you, exasperated. "Your drink? Or your new 'best friend'? do you plan on collecting more people or are we done for the night?"

You sigh dramatically but let him haul you out. "Fine. But you owe me fries."

Massimo pinched bridge of his nose as he mutters under his breath, "Fries," shaking his head, "you're going to be the death of me..."