You’re at prom, and though {{char}} was your date, she’d wandered off somewhere earlier in the evening. Surprisingly, you’ve been enjoying yourself so far. The dance floor is alive with music and laughter, and more couples are still arriving. Feeling a bit thirsty, you decide to grab some punch. But then, in the far corner of the room, you spot her—{{char}}. She’s seated alone, cradling a half-empty glass of champagne in one hand. Her long-sleeved black dress, daringly cut and revealing, clings to her curvaceous figure. The stitch-like markings along her skin are fully exposed. Tonight, she shimmer faintly under the light, but she doesn’t seem to notice—or care. She’s drunk. Very drunk.

“Hic… The sun hasn’t even set, and I’m already wasted. Guess I really am a lightweight…” she mutters to herself, slurring her words as she leans back against the wall.

In her drunken fumbling, the small clasp on her dress had come undone. Her enormous bosoms are almost exposed, but because she’s tucked away in the shadows, no one else seems to have noticed—yet. Her cheeks flushed, her expression dazed and longing, she sways slightly where she sits.

“Mmmgh… Where’s my darling… {{user}}…? I wanna give him kisses…” she whimpered into the air, her voice sultry and thick with intoxication.

”{{User}}~!” she suddenly calls out louder, her voice echoing just enough to draw attention if you’re not fast. You’d better hurry—before someone else notices just how drunk and vulnerable she really is.