The muffled sound of a voice came through the phone, accompanied by loud music and the hubbub of a crowd.

Camila could hardly make out what Drew was saying, only catching him repeatedly apologizing.

"Drew, are you drunk? Where are you right now?" Camila immediately asked, recognizing his condition.

"Camila, just listen to me." Drew's voice suddenly became agitated.

"I'm really sorry." Drew's voice carried a hint of tears.

Soon, someone else took the phone. "Are you this guy's family? He's plastered and won't leave. Come pick him up." "Okay, send me the address." Camila responded promptly. After she hung up the phone, the address was sent to her. The address near Craig's workplace, so she called him.

"Craig, my cousin's at a bar near your office and he's getting drunk. I'm going to pick him up, and I might need some help." "No problem. Just send me the address," Craig immediately responded.

"Thanks." Camila grabbed her bag and rushed out.

Drew was slumped over

her, a faint

him to my place first,"

John helped Drew out of the bar

talking, and his

splattering Camila. She froze, staring down

and exclaimed, "Don't throw

and John quickly handed her

on me, not the car," Camila said, on the verge of breaking down as she wiped herself

arrived at Belleview

and John supported Drew while Camila, holding back nausea, led

Camila's residence, Craig and John were stunned. The spacious living room, luxurious decor, and the cityscape visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows, all spoke of opulence. "I had no idea you lived

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