Eventually, the madness died. Not because anyone had developed common sense. They were simply exhausted.
The music had been turned down to a low murmur, the bass no longer shaking the floor. Afternoon light had softened into amber, stretching long shadows across the living room. The air smelled faintly of sweat, perfume, whisky, and the abandoned snacks scattered across the coffee table.
Bodies were scattered everywhere.
Chen Yu had claimed one end of the sofa, sprawled across it like a man returning from war. Nil sat beside him, one arm resting along the backrest while Chen Yu complained about his aching thighs.
Xiao Mei was on the rug, leaning against Aria's legs and drinking water straight from the bottle. Aria sat above her, perfectly composed despite having participated willingly in the collective destruction of everyone's dignity less than twenty minutes earlier.
Zhang Yichen occupied an armchair. Mo Fei had somehow ended up perched on the arm beside him, still talking.
Louis sat opposite them. The whisky bottle rested between his hands— nearly empty. His gaze travelled around the room, heavy with absolute contempt.
How had he ended up here? Seriously. How?
He had spent years working in the entertainment industry. He had dealt with executives, negotiated contracts, survived scandals, hostile journalists, obsessive fans, and egos large enough to require separate dressing rooms.
He knew stars. He knew what celebrities were supposed to look like.
These people— His eyes landed on Chen Yu.
Chen Yu was currently trying to steal a crisp from Nil's hand using his toes.
Louis stared.
Chen Yu.
Celebrity chef. Award-winning restaurateur. Heir to an established family. A prestigious chef repeatedly hailed as one of the best in China. Millions watched his programmes. Critics praised his palate. Reservations at his restaurants disappeared months in advance.
And what was he really?
Chen Yu successfully caught the crisp between his toes.
Nil slapped his foot away. "Don't eat with your feet."
Louis took another drink. A menace. His gaze moved.
Aria Lin.
Now there was someone respectable. Heiress to the Lin family. Acclaimed actress. Elegant. Intelligent. Private. Frequently praised as one of the finest actresses of the twenty-first century. Directors respected her.
Actors admired her. Journalists practically wrote poetry about her composure.
Aria reached down and stole Xiao Mei's water bottle.
"Hey!"
Aria calmly took another sip.
Louis stared.
Put her around these idiots for longer than twenty minutes and whatever distinguished aura she possessed simply… vanished.
His gaze dropped to Xiao Mei. And this one. Louis clicked his tongue.
Model. Actress. S-class celebrity. One of the most recognisable women in the entertainment industry. Her campaigns covered billboards across the country. Brands fought for her. Millions followed everything she did. Her fame rivalled Zhang Yichen's.
Louis still could not understand who, in their right mind, had allowed that to happen. The woman was a total goofball.
Xiao Mei suddenly grabbed Aria's knee. "Ariaaaa, give it back! I'm dehydrating!"
"You drank half the bottle thirty seconds ago."
Louis drank again. Ridiculous. Speaking of Zhang Yichen— His eyes moved to the armchair.
Ah. Yes.
The great Zhang Yichen. Award-winning actor. International luxury ambassador. Only son of the Zhang family. The man newspapers described with words like untouchable, elegant, mysterious, and cold.
A man Louis had once considered sensible.
Zhang Yichen was currently listening with complete seriousness while Mo Fei explained something that made absolutely no sense.
"So technically," Mo Fei was saying, gesturing with both hands, "if you put enough cheese inside another cheese, the outside cheese becomes the bread."
Yichen's eyes widened. "No way."
Mo Fei gasped too. "Yes way."
Louis stared at them. Where would he even begin? Wasn't Zhang Yichen supposed to be the sensible one? The responsible one? The person Louis could rely on to possess at least one functioning brain cell when everyone else had collectively misplaced theirs?
Instead he was sitting there debating the structural philosophy of cheese with Mo Fei.
Oh God.
What was happening?
Louis's gaze finally settled on the violet-haired disaster himself. Right.
Mo Fei.
The mastermind. The chief executive officer of every chaotic thing that had already happened and every ridiculous thing still waiting to happen in the foreseeable future. Chaos followed him like a personal assistant. Everything, somehow, always seemed to revolve around this loud, shameless, chaotic—
Louis opened his mouth internally, prepared to continue the list. Then stopped. Ah, damn it. Did it even matter anymore? He looked around the room again.
Chen Yu was now arguing with Nil about whether toes counted as utensils. Xiao Mei was attempting to reclaim her water. Aria was holding it above her head.
Mo Fei had abandoned the cheese argument and was poking Yichen's cheek. Yichen was letting him.
Louis frowned.
Why was he spiralling? His thoughts felt oddly… loose. He looked down at the whisky bottle in his hand. Lifted it toward the light and blinked. Hadn't this bottle been almost full? The label was slightly blurred.
A tired sigh left his lips. He was drunk. That was the only explanation.
Before he could set the bottle down, Sima Li dropped onto the cushion beside him. Warm weight. The familiar scent of his cologne cut through the leftover alcohol in the air.
Sima's hair was still slightly dishevelled from dancing, a few strands falling over his forehead. His cheeks were faintly flushed from exertion, and his shirt clung lightly around the collar. His expression shifted the moment he saw the bottle. "Did you drink all of that?"
Louis pulled the bottle closer. "No." Sima Li reached over and took it straight out of his hand. "Hey."
"This is practically empty!"
"So?"
"So?" Sima Li held it up accusingly. "Louis, this much alcohol isn't good for you."
Louis leaned back into the sofa.
Here we go.
Sima Li had already launched into it. "You drink too much when you're stressed. Do you know what excessive alcohol does to your body? Your liver has to process all of that. And dehydration—you never drink enough water either. Have you even eaten properly today?"
Louis watched his mouth move.
"... And don't think I haven't noticed you skipping meals when you're busy. You'll drink coffee all morning, forget lunch, then come home and—"
Right. Who was Louis to judge anyone? He had willingly tied his fate to these people. Worse— His eyes drifted over Sima Li's face, tto this one.
Sima Li was still talking.
"—and another thing, drinking because you're annoyed is a terrible habit. Next time, tell me you're stressed. I'll get you something to eat, or we can go somewhere, or— Louis, are you even listening to me?"
Not really.
Louis's expression slowly softened. Sima's mouth kept moving. Something about water. Or food. Possibly liver failure. Louis couldn't tell anymore.
The soft movement of his lips. The way his brows drew together in that earnest, slightly scolding expression. The way he kept waving the nearly empty bottle around like evidence in a criminal trial. He was nagging him. Relentlessly.
Louis should have been irritated. Instead, something warm and stupid unfurled in his chest. Did Sima Li even know how cute he sounded when he got like this?
Louis smiled without realising it.
Sima Li continued, "Seriously, Louis, I'm talking to you. At least pretend you— "
Louis's hand came up on its own. Fingers pinched one of Sima Li's cheeks, gentle but firm, feeling the soft give of skin beneath his thumb. "You're cute."
The words left his mouth clearly. Quiet, but unmistakable. The entire room went still.
Conversation died mid-sentence. Glasses stopped halfway to mouths. Every pair of eyes turned toward them in perfect, stunned silence. The only sound left was the low hum of the air conditioner and the faint ticking of someone's watch.
Sima Li, "…"
Louis, "…"
Then, slowly, awareness returned. Something was wrong. Why was nobody talking? Louis's gaze shifted.
Chen Yu had stopped halfway through stealing another crisp. Nil's hand was frozen around his wrist.
Xiao Mei's mouth hung open. Aria had lowered the water bottle.
Mo Fei still had one finger pressed into Yichen's cheek. Yichen was looking directly at Louis. Everyone was staring at him.
Louis's hand was still pinching Sima Li's cheek. He released him immediately and cleared his throat. "Ahem." Heat flooded the tips of his ears, burning. Oh shit.
He was really, truly drunk.
Louis cleared his throat again, turned his face away and let his hand fall. Beside him, Sima Li leaned closer, eyes bright, a wide, delighted smile spreading across his face. Louis didn't have to look. He could practically feel the grin.
"Say it again."
Louis shoved him lightly in the shoulder, the contact more flustered than forceful. "Get lost."
He pushed himself up from the sofa. The sudden movement made the room tilt for a second.
The floor felt slightly unsteady under his feet. Without looking at anyone, he turned and headed for the kitchen, the soft sound of his footsteps loud in the stunned quiet.
Sima Li was right behind him almost immediately, the light pad of his steps following close. "Louis— hey. Say it again. You can't just say something like that and walk away. Louis. Come on. One more time."
Louis closed his eyes.
He should have taken the whisky bottle with him and gone home when he had the chance.
Behind them, the rest of the group remained frozen, staring after the two of them with open shock. The earlier easy atmosphere had completely shattered.