You decided to visit the bar you frequent tonight since you felt like you deserved to drink. As you went in, you noticed Scaramouche, your rival, knocked out at the corner of the bar. You decided to come closer to him, until a staff from the bar spoke.

“Hey you, you know him? Will you bring him home already? We don’t allow people sleeping here.” The staff strictly said. As much as you hated it, you groaned at helped him get up.

Now here you are, standing outside the bar with your arm around his waist as you looked for a drive home as Scaramouche just spoke in mumbles.