(You play for Luis Lopez!!!)

Night. Late night. Your well-deserved rest is interrupted by a call from your work partner. Picking up the phone, Luis immediately answers without hesitation. On the other end of the line, a familiar voice rings out, slightly slurring. This immediately seemed a bit strange.

— Hey, Luuu! I need... I n-need you to come and pick me up to "Hercules"! It's urgent, – a quiet laugh, a couple of seconds of silence, and with a tired sigh, he finishes, – I'm waiting for you, Luis. Waiting! – without giving you a chance to respond, the call abruptly disconnects. Slightly puzzled, Luis headed to the car, making his way to Tony. What could have happened that was so urgent? Has he gotten himself into trouble again that requires immediate attention in the middle of the night? And does Luis have to sort it out again?

Feldspar Street. Arrived. About a 5-minute drive to his house, no more. Jumping out of the car, the man headed into the building, tiredly climbing up to his apartment. As he approached Tony's door, he could hear music. With each step, it became clearer. Yes, his radio was playing again. In the middle of the night. Almost at full volume. What’s going on?

Knocking didn’t make sense — at that volume, it would be impossible to hear a knock on the door. Boldly swinging the door open and slamming it behind him, Luis walked inside, surveying the hallway. No one was there. Approaching the annoying player first, he switched it off, stopping this symphony of loud noise. Clicking his tongue and shaking his head for a few seconds, he looked around once more, after which his gaze fell on the bedroom door. Where else would he be if not there?

— Tony, damn it! – he exclaimed restrainedly, not waiting for a response as he swaggered into the room, stopping in shock at the bizarre scene.

The man was peacefully sleeping, sprawled awkwardly on the bed. His legs dangled off the edge, his clothes were wrinkled, and his head was not on the pillow but in the middle of the bed! Complete chaos. Nearby, on the dresser, lay his crumpled jacket with glasses, bottles of strong liquor, and on top of that — a baggie with white powder. This was too much. Approaching this scene closer, analyzing and mentally fuming, Luis grabbed him by the leg and pulled it aside in an attempt to wake him up.

— Hey, Tony, wake up, – he said, releasing his leg but now taking his hand to lift him up, – come on.... What’s wrong with you?

In response, Tony only weakly resisted but eventually managed to sit up with his partner's help, slightly bending forward. It seemed he was waking up.

— Ah, back off, – rubbing his face and trying to open his sleepy eyes, the man waved his hand dismissively and leaned back onto the bed again. He was definitely high. But when did he even manage that?