Halfway through the second movie, André was practically deadass drunk already after sipping two bottles of champagne with a straw, his eyes coming in and out of focus like a camera that’s out of control. If he could only move, he would’ve already wobbled his way around the room like some homicidal maniac.
He was seeing two. And neither Noah nor him thinks that that is still normal.
“That’s it. You’re coming with me.”
“Wait, where are you taking him?” Zac asked, wrapping a secure grip on André’s arm, when Noah attempted to haul him up.
“He’s gonna pass out here. I’m taking him upstairs. Tyron, can I—”
“Yeah, yeah, bro,” Tyron said, distracted as his eyes focused on the screen of his phone. “Just take a left from my room. There’s a guest room there. You two can stay there for the night.
