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      𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐀 𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐀 𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐋𝐘, more specifically in her college years, jumping at the opportunities to go to parties, dressing in the most revealing outfit possible, interacting...

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𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐀 𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐀 𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐋𝐘, more specifically in her college years, jumping at the opportunities to go to parties, dressing in the most revealing outfit possible, interacting with others wherever she went. It came with the advantage of finding new friends, free alcohol and many rough nights of clinging to the seat of a toilet for most. Twelve years later, the woman was self-loathing at her impulsiveness when it came to alcohol, feeling like she had been hit with a bus standing next to Stu and Alan, trying not to curl in on herself from how disgusting she felt.

"Hey, Phil, I don't think Doug would want us to take the Mercedes." Alan voiced with concern. "My dad is crazy about that car. He left Doug in charge—"

      "What he doesn't know won't hurt him." Olivia shrugged, other worries corrupting her mind than the Mercedes they borrowed.

       "Exactly. We have bigger problems here." Phil agreed. "Doug could be in the hospital, he could be hurt." Like he had read her mind, Phil passed over a coffee for Olivia, knowing that she couldn't stomach anything if she was hungover.

      "You life saver." Liv happily accepted the coffee, giving a Phil a thankful peck on the cheek, sipping down the warm beverage.

Stu lifted his head into the sky, his attention drawn onto the group of maintenance workers up on the roof as they all bellowed out instructions at each other, struggling to remove the object that was pierced onto the statue. "Uh, guys? Check it out." They all turned their heads, following to where Stu pointed, seeing them try and lift a mattress off.

      "What's going on here?" Phil questioned a taxi driver, his eyes still trained on the ruined mattress in the air.

      "Some asshole threw his bed out the window last night. Some people just can't handle Vegas." The four subtly glanced at each other silently at the man's words. They were people who couldn't handle Vegas.

      Once the taxi driver was out of earshot, Phil turned to the group with creased brows. "How the hell did we manage that?" He asked no one in particular. Nobody had a response, clearly from what they all had established is the complete blur of the night they had, throwing a mattress out the window was possibly the least damageable thing they had done last night.

Suddenly, the sound of squealing of tyres came from beside them with a cop car was being placed right on the curb, a man sliding out to face the group. "Here's your car, officer."

They stared at him in confusion, each about to interject that he was mistaken but Phil had already swiftly spoken for them. "Alright, everybody act cool. Don't say a word. Let's just get in and go."

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