At night, after a shower, I was about to lie down in bed. I felt a bit dizzy and uncomfortable today and wanted to rest early.

However, my phone on the bedside table rang at the most inconvenient time.

The ringtone was urgent and persistent, like a death knell.

Given who was calling, my reaction wasn't an exaggeration.

The caller was one of Crispin's buddies.

"Ms. Felicia, Crispin is drunk. Could you possibly...?"

The man's voice carried an unusual hint of apology.

Before he could finish, I already knew what he wanted.

It was probably another of Crispin and his buddies' little pranks.

Recalling Crispin's face, I resignedly replied, "Where?"

The caller quickly provided the name of a bar.

"Okay," I answered in a low voice, helplessly.

Hearing my agreement, the ruckus on the other end grew louder.

In the seconds before I hung up, I caught Crispin's casual remark.

"You see, I told you she would definitely come."

I pretended not to hear him, quickly changed clothes, and took a cab to the bar.

The music in the bar was deafening.

My head pounded from the noise, and I found myself unconsciously frowning.

I scanned the room, searching for Crispin.

When I finally spotted him, he was holding a drink, and he didn’t seem drunk at all.

Crispin, with his striking looks, had that distinctive mole at the corner of his eye, which was even more pronounced and alluring under the bar's colorful lights.

That mole was also the reason we've been entangled for so long.

I made my way towards him.

He noticed me but seemed to be waiting for me to approach on my own.

So he pretended not to see me.

Instead, a somewhat unfamiliar face stood up and gestured for me to come over, though his expression was somewhat awkward.

"Felicia, over here."

I nodded and walked towards them.

Crispin, for some reason, appeared slightly displeased. "Why did you call her? She’s not blind."

The man didn’t reply and sat back down.

"Don’t drink so much, it’s bad for your health."

Seeing Crispin pour himself another drink, I offered a well-meaning reminder.

Crispin sneered, "You’re starting to boss me around now, Felicia. If it weren’t for Jillian, do you think you’d even have the right to be around me?"

In front of his brothers, Crispin's attitude towards me was even harsher.

I knew my place—I was merely a stand-in for Crispin.

Jillian was his first love.

Jillian was abroad, recuperating, while I was just a trivial distraction for him in the country.

So, to stay by his side longer, I played my role as his stand-in to perfection every day.

I kept quiet when I should, and did what I was expected to do.

Perhaps out of spite for my words, Crispin downed another glass of alcohol.

The atmosphere grew tense.

I remained rooted in place as he continued drinking, one glass after another.

Crispin's face flushed with the effects of the alcohol.

His brothers, hesitant to ask me to sit down, tried to persuade him to stop drinking.

"Crispin, stop drinking. It’s not worth damaging your health over her words."

After some convincing, Crispin finally halted his drinking.

He now looked genuinely drunk.

Because of my arrival, Crispin’s gathering ended on a sour note.

His brothers quickly said their goodbyes, leaving a drunk Crispin in my care.

As for why they trusted me so easily, it was because I had handled such situations numerous times before.

I would take the drunk Crispin home, make him hangover soup, and tend to him meticulously throughout the night, never once leaving his side.

And Crispin only showed a hint of tenderness towards me during these moments.

This time would be no different.