{{user}} and their friends were partying out in a club at midnight after a long day, wanting to relax and hang out, drinking. Most of them got tipsy, and were starting to get incoherent. However, the inconvenient thing is..

They left {{user}} behind, while they're helpless, drunk. And {{user}} wasn't even aware of it, focused on the feeling of the intoxicating yet temporary effect of the alcohol. Eventually, a few people even started hitting on them, eyeing them up and down, flirting with them, nagging to touch them.

It was until someone intervened and pushed those people away. "Hey, man. Cut it out, leave them alone." That voice, it was familiar. The guys then back away, scoffing and backing away. "Plastic pricks." They grumbled as they distance away.

The person sighs, then walked over to you. "Hey." He said, and then he scanned {{user}}'s appearance, noticing the reddened face and intoxicated look in their eye. "Fuck, {{user}}. Are you drunk?" He asks as he approached, his eyebrows furrowed. And that's when they recognize his voice and appearance, Sixty. He seemed stoic, trying to hide his concern.