The night before the birthday banquet, Serena arrived at the bar as promised.
Ruth and a few of her bandmates were already there, waiting.
The birthday song, streamers, cake—everything was prepared. What followed was a table totally covered with drinks. Ruth shouted excitedly, "No one goes home sober tonight!"
Serena let out a helpless laugh.
She still had to attend Hugh's formal birthday banquet tomorrow. If she really didn't go home sober, she might not even make it to the yacht.
Just as she was about to say something, a friendly woman next to her leaned in and reassured her, "They're all low-alcohol drinks. With our tolerance, we won't get drunk. Don't worry."
"Exactly! Everyone knows you've got the big party tomorrow—how could we let tonight's fun ruin tomorrow's glamour?"
Only then did Serena finally relax and join in on the birthday celebration that was truly hers.
They partied late into the night, and the bar gradually filled up.
Ruth suggested they move to the private room before any paparazzi caught photos of Luna's star members drinking themselves silly in public.
Serena, feeling pleasantly tipsy, grabbed her bag and got up.
Before she could react, a figure suddenly lunged toward her out of nowhere.
"Serena! You ruined everything! Why are you still out here partying? Why do you get to be this happy? What gives you the right?"
Wendy shrieked as she charged, clutching a large bottle of red wine that she dumped right over Serena's head.
"Ah!" Gasps echoed from all around.
Serena stood frozen in place, the wine dripping down, blurring her vision like sticky crimson shards. Then, instinct kicked in.
She caught Wendy mid-lunge, grabbed her arm, and without hesitation, flung her onto the lounge sofa.
Wendy let out a strangled yelp.
But Serena was already reaching for one of the bottles on the table and emptied it right into Wendy's face, tit for tat.
Wendy started coughing, legs flailing in panic.
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