"I need to pee," she pouted, turning her head back to look over her shoulder. Mo Qingchen raised his brow, wondering how she would react when he told her how colorful she had been while drunk.

"Okay," he sighed. He very well couldn't accompany her inside the bathroom. She seemed to have gotten a bit drunker than she did when she fell asleep in the car, so he didn't want to scold her either.

He knew enough about drunks to know that when they cried, their tears wouldn't stop, neither would their wails.

"Don't lock the door!" he commanded her. She hummed, her voice hoarse but when she closed the door behind her, Mo Qingchen heard the inadvertent click of the lock.

He waited. Five minutes.

Ten minutes.

Fifteen minutes.

His knees bounced as he waited. He didn't know how long a grown woman took in the bathroom, so he couldn't be overly worried. Instead, he walked over to the closed door and knocked loudly.

"Are you okay in there?" he asked.

"Yes!" he heard a chirpy reply. "Coming!" she shouted louder.

He slumped, relieved, and then was about to move back to the bed when he heard her fumbling. It was the clear sound of her trying to unlock the door but being unable to. Mo Qingchen pretended to be deaf. But after a minute, he really started to wonder if she had a functioning brain.

"Can you unlock the door?" he asked gently, pressing his face against the door so that he could hear her clearly. She was slightly panicking, her breathing heavier than usual.

"How do I open the door?" she cried. Mo Qingchen banged his head against the door before starting to advise her step by step.

It took quite some time, he had to admit. But she finally did it. The door opened and she stumbled out, her hand gripping at the door to keep herself from falling. He grabbed one of her arms and placed it over his shoulder. He was taller than her by a full foot, so the whole situation was very awkward. One hand around her waist stabilized them.

He basically picked her up by her waist and then planted her on the bed. Her arm slipped from his shoulder and dropped limply by her side.

Her eyes were wide open as he stared at the ceiling.

"You can't leave," she slurred. She didn't turn her head to indicate that she was talking to Mo Qingchen.

"Who are you talking to?" Mo Qingchen replied, irritated but humoring her.

"You." She pouted. Still no sign that she was actually talking to him and not some ghost only she could see.

"And who am I?"

"Ginchqen," she said. Like it was a perfectly legitimate name. He looked around wondering if he could escape. He should have left when he had the chance.

"I am not... that." Her fingers crawled towards his hand which dangled close to her and she played with his fingers, flicking them with her own without even realizing.

Mo Qingchen looked down and frowned. He supposed that drunk her revealed her childish side or something. Opening her clothes with no regard and touching a man like this without regard.

"Then... are you that scumbag Bai Ye Qing?" This name she said without slurring.

'Am I being discriminated against or is she pretending to be drunk?' Mo Qingchen leaned in and smelled her breath. He recoiled and cringed when he got the chance. He sucked in some fresh air and then shook his head. 'Definitely drunk. I am still being discriminated against.'

"No." His voice was firm.

She didn't listen to him. She pulled him down, rolling away as his body hit the bed, and then crawled on top of him. Her hair cascaded down, framing her face as she hovered over him.

"I'd kill you if you were," she hissed. "Took everything from me and gave it to that woman Jia Ai. I watched them... she got pregnant. I watched them as they killed me. They took everything from me. How can I let them get off?" She started to laugh.

Mo Qingchen grew silent. "What are you talking about, Qian Meng?" he whispered.

"You..." a sob ripped through her throat. "I have nothing. Nowhere to go, no family to stand behind me. I'm nothing." Her hand gripped the sheet beside his head and her eyelids closed as she pushed back the tears. The words were slurred but Mo Qingchen could hear her loud and clear.

His heart shook. Uncontrollably.

"Was I so lonely that I let a small-peened, hair-brained man take advantage of me and hoodwink me?" Her voice grew softer. "I'm so stupid."

"Qian Meng," Mo Qingchen warned. "Shut up."

"I don't believe..." she kept chanting.

"That's right. It didn't happen. It was all a nightmare. You're here now. This is your life."

He caught her when she lost strength in her arms. He cushioned her fall and held her close to his body for a few minutes as her tears soaked through his t-shirt. Helplessly, he patted her back and hummed a lullaby his mother liked to sing to him as a child. Soon, her tears dried and her sobs turned into whimpers and then into level breathing.

His hands continued, his fingers drumming on her back, his hum disappearing into the wind. He stared at the ceiling and recalled her words.

Yes, it was all a nightmare.