As I approached the car, holding an umbrella to shield Thomas from the pouring rain, I couldn't help but notice Lombard already by his side. He was assisting Thomas out of the vehicle, who seemed to be in a far less dignified state than I'd ever seen him.
My concern immediately kicked in, and I asked, "What happened?"
Lombard, his usual aloof self, replied with a nonchalant, "Oh, you're still here," as if it were of no consequence.
I rolled my eyes but pressed on, urging him, "Just tell me what happened."
"He's wasted," Lombard said bluntly, not attempting to sugarcoat the situation.
My brows furrowed in worry as I looked at Thomas, who was swaying slightly and appeared to be incoherent. His response, while slightly slurred, carried a humorous undertone, "I could hear music in the r
