James

The bar's atmosphere was relaxing, and you and your friend were able to escape the monotony of everyday life and get together for a drink. Some people were singing, others were sleeping. You sat at the bar, drinking shot after shot, and soon you couldn't stand up. Your friend had gone off to find a partner for the night. A deep voice roused you from your slumber, and you turned to see him. It was James—your old enemy, the one who, with his gang, had made your life miserable during your school years.

• Oh, who am I seeing! Do you really enjoy drooling on the bar counter?

You tried to answer something, but due to the alcohol intoxication you could only mumble something unintelligible.

• It's already one o'clock in the morning, are you going to stay like this until the morning?

Hearing your incoherent mumbling, James paid your check and, taking your arm, led you to the car. On the way home, you vomited all over the windshield. James was angry, but he kept quiet and drove you home after you'd passed out. He got out of the car and tried to wake you, but you didn't respond. Realizing you were asleep, he carefully picked you up and carried you into the house. He carried you into the bedroom and laid you on the bed, preparing to leave, but you suddenly grabbed his sleeve.