It was a long, immersive, passionate kiss.

  The scene was so beautifully shot that the director couldn't bear to call cut.

  Neither of them knew how long they'd been kissing—until Chloe felt dizzy, lightheaded, on the verge of oxygen deprivation. Only then did the director reluctantly yell, "Cut!"

  Bryan opened his eyes and pulled his lips away from Chloe's. He quickly turned his back to her, frantically adjusting his costume pants beneath his robes where no one could see.

  Panic and mortification flooded him. He had actually...

  Damn it, Bryan, what are you doing?

  "Director, that take was perfect. If we used this as a teaser, social media would explode!"

  "Absolutely brilliant. I didn't want to call cut."

  Director Adam stood up, thoroughly satisfied, and called out with a smile, "Chloe, Bryan! That was excellent. It's a wrap!"

  The set erupted in enthusiastic applause. No one expected such a beautifully shot kissing scene right before wrap.

  Chloe's cheeks burned. Pulled out of character, her heart raced wildly, threatening to leap from her chest.

  She hurriedly bowed to the crew in thanks, then noticed Bryan still had his back to her. Too embarrassed to approach him, she turned and fled the set.

  By the time Bryan had composed himself—letting his body cool down—and turned around, Chloe was gone.

  He glanced around instinctively. The crew had already started striking the set. The scene was over.

  Grace and Scarlett partied until 3 a.m. Bottle after bottle of imported liquor was opened, and the girls drank to their hearts' content.

  One thing was undeniable: they'd definitely gotten their fill of touching firm, sculpted bodies tonight.

  "Grace, I absolutely adore you! Let's do this again soon, okay?"

  "Exactly! Next time, no boys allowed. We'll treat you—get you ten young guys!"

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  "Yeah! Next time, make them dance completely naked, hahaha..."

  The girls were pretty tipsy, the alcohol loosening their tongues completely.

  Grace and Scarlett, surprisingly, remained relatively lucid. They were a bit drunk, but still functional.

  The five guys, however, couldn't keep up—especially Douglas. Watching Grace hug and play intimately with the male hosts, he'd sulked and drowned his sorrows in liquor. By now, he was practically unconscious.

  As the night wound down, a server entered with the bill. Aside from the bottles Grace had personally bought and the male hosts she'd already paid for, the remaining tab came to 36 Dollars.

  In plain terms, that 36 Dollars covered the guys' expenses for the night.

  Neither Grace nor Scarlett had any intention of covering it. Scarlett grabbed Douglas's phone, forcibly pried open his eyes for facial recognition, and paid the bill.

  The male hosts thoughtfully escorted the ladies downstairs. Douglas, meanwhile, was carried out on Luke's back.

  Following his father's instructions, Charles had arrived at the club entrance at 2 a.m. to wait. Though Scarlett was late coming out, he didn't text or rush her—just silently watched the club doors.

  When he saw them emerge, he hurried over.

  A gust of night wind hit Scarlett, and the alcohol in her system suddenly intensified.

  She reached out and pinched Charles's fair cheek, laughing loudly. "Charles! You came to get me?"

  Charles flinched slightly, uncomfortable, but his hands steadied her, making sure she didn't fall.

  He looked at Grace. "Grace, the car's over there."

  Grace, still fairly sober, nodded. Just as she and Charles were about to guide Scarlett into the car, Luke approached with Douglas on his back.

  "Grace, could Scarlett take Douglas back with her?"

  Grace blinked in surprise as Luke explained, "My place is too far, and I'm crashing at a friend's tonight. Can't look after Douglas."

  Douglas was Scarlett's cousin. Staying overnight at his uncle's place wouldn't be unusual.

  But Scarlett was sleeping at her place.

  "Could you book him a hotel?" Grace suggested.

  "No ID."

  Grace hesitated, then nodded. "Put him in the car for now."

  The two drunks were installed in the backseat—one slumped left, the other leaning right.

  Grace took the passenger seat and instructed Charles, "Drive carefully. Don't let them jostle enough to throw up."

  Charles nodded and started the car slowly.

  Throughout the ride, Scarlett alternated between incomprehensible muttering and sudden bursts of off-key singing.

  Charles watched her antics through the rearview mirror and sighed helplessly.

  Grace, meanwhile, pulled out her phone and recorded every embarrassing moment.

  Douglas, on the other hand, was completely unconscious. Dead to the world.

  The car pulled directly into the villa's driveway. Charles carried Scarlett upstairs first, then returned to Grace.

  "Grace, I'll take Douglas to his uncle's place. You two get some rest."

  "Forget it. Don't put him through that." Grace hesitated. "There's a spare room downstairs—the maid's quarters. Could you put him there? It's late; we shouldn't disturb his uncle and aunt."

  Charles looked uncertain. "Is that convenient?"

  After all, this was Grace's home, and only she and Scarlett were here.

  Grace nodded. "It's fine. He's completely out. Let him sleep here."

  "Alright. I'll come by early tomorrow with breakfast."

  "No need. We all stayed up late. Everyone should sleep in, including you. Thanks for today, Charles."

  Charles considered for a moment, then agreed. He hoisted Douglas onto his back and carried him downstairs.

  The maid's room had a single bed with pillows and blankets. After laying Douglas down, Charles left.

  Grace placed a trash can by the bed in case Douglas got sick and set a bottle of water on the nightstand. She left the light on when she closed the door—the environment was unfamiliar, and if he woke up disoriented, he'd need to see.

  The next day, Grace didn't open her eyes until 1 p.m.

  Despite drinking quite a bit, she woke without a headache.

  She checked the room next door first. Curtains drawn, the dark room lit only by a phone screen. Scarlett was propped against the headboard, scrolling.

  When the door opened, Scarlett looked at Grace pitifully. "Sweetie... I feel awful."

  Grace said, "See if you drink straight liquor again. Wait here—I'll order you some hangover tea. It'll help."

  "Thanks."

  Remembering Douglas might still be downstairs, Grace headed to the first floor. She immediately spotted him on the sofa, looking haggard.

  "Grace! You're awake!" Douglas lit up at the sight of her.

  Grace went to the coffee station, poured two glasses of water, and handed one to Douglas. "Did you throw up?"

  Douglas nodded pathetically, sipping the water. "What did you give me? I feel really hot..."

  "Water. Don't be weird."

  Douglas: "Oh."