The twins insisted not to catch a taxi right away, but to take a short walk along the promenade. Fresh air was supposed to vent my head, they said. At the same time, they were annoyed with me because my drunken step slowed our walk very much. I was constantly getting off track. I had to make sure my legs wouldn't get tangled, and a few times I even unconsciously stopped, staring at something we were just passing.

And we passed a lot of interesting scenes. I watched as in front of the colorful clubs, from the insides of which the loud, vibrating bass reached our ears, people were lining up, trying to look sober, so that only those menacing, packed guards who stood at the gates, would mercifully agree to let them in. Lots of people went out of the clubs outside to smoke a cigarette or just cool down for a while. We passed friends or strangers who had deep, drunken conversations on truly philosophical topics. There was also a girl who was bursting with tears like a fountain, seized with the deepest despair, comforted by a wreath of friends. There were couples who quarreled, reconciled, and those who devoured each other's faces. There was a guy who was not allowed to bring a tiny bottle of vodka into the bar, so he drank it all at once just before entering,

I glanced left and there was the beach. The sight of it fascinated me and a bit terrified me at the same time. The black sand mingled with the black water that was indistinguishable from the black sky. I am not used to thinking of the beach in terms of darkness. After all, what is usually associated with it is the sun, azure, goldenness, and such a general paradise.

I remember the beach in Thailand at night, when we stayed there late a few times, but its blackness didn't surprise me so much, because it didn't contrast with the promenade full of life, crowds, and colorful lights like here.

My brothers were engrossed in a conversation that I didn't listen to, and maybe it was this exclusion and the fact that my thoughts were circulating too frivolously in endless nothingness that made me blink at some point, stop and come back to reality, I felt like I was going to vomit.

I immediately put my hand over my mouth and felt a drop of sweat on my face. Oh no no please, I can't throw up. Not here! I looked up at my brothers who were a few steps ahead of me before realizing I had stopped walking. They turned around and already knew what was going on.

"I guess I'm sick," I muttered through my fingers.

Tony looked up at the sky and Shane immediately stepped back to get me, grabbed my arm, and led me to the side to sit on the low wall that separated the sidewalk from the beach. Obediently, I slumped down on him and, following the instructions, put my head between my legs, taking deep breaths. It took a while, and at last, I felt like I was almost drifting away, so I made myself open my eyes and look up. Tony stood right next to me like a guard. The only thing missing was a spear attached to his back. One his hand was in his pocket, and in the other, traditionally, he kept a cigarette. He watched the people calmly pass us by, and lazily glanced at me as he felt me ​​tug weakly on his pants.

"Where's Shane?" I asked weakly. I sounded like the world's greatest martyr. I was supposed to ask him to take us home as soon as possible, but my brother's absence interested me.

"He'll be back soon," he grunted. He was looking down at me and didn't seem to feel sorry for me.

"I want to go home."

"He'll be back soon," Tony repeated more forcefully, completely ignoring my wish.

With a pathetic sigh, I hid my face back between my knees, trying to understand why, a moment ago, I had felt like dancing on the bar where neither the height nor the sticky top, to which the soles of my sneakers were sticking, bothered me, and now suddenly I couldn't even sit still without avoiding dizziness.

A minute, two, or ten later, the sounds of the twins' familiar voices burst into my absent mind. Shane just got back. He complained about the long queue. He asked how I felt. I wouldn't raise my head again just to greet him, but the smell of the food made it shoot itself up.

Shane held three silver-wrapped tortillas with both hands. One of them was being taken over by Tony, and I was reaching for mine before he even turned to me. Jesus, yes, this is what I needed now. As soon as the warm pancake landed in my hands, I unwrapped the foil and bit into it without even trying to pretend to be a great lady. I immediately smeared my mouth with garlic sauce, which was poured over freshly grilled meat. It was accompanied by a bouquet of juicy salads. All this wrapped in a warm, flexible tortilla dough. My stomach almost howled with happiness, and I was ready to follow him.

"There's nothing better than an afterparty kebab," Shane sighed with delight when he finished and tossed the ball-rolled napkins into a nearby, overfull dumpster. It really quickly became the only remnant of his meal.

"Yeah, right, a party" Tony snorted softly, licking the rest of the sauce off his thumb.

I didn't have the slightest need to participate in the exchange of their comments, so I just sat quietly and politely ate my portion. I had food, so I was happy. Moreover, it really worked because the nausea was gone. When at the end I couldn't push even a gram more into my stomach, Shane finished the rest for me, in return offering me a small bottle of water he had probably purchased on the way. I clung onto it and, as instructed, and drank almost all of its contents.

Fed and watered, I immediately felt better. I regained my energy, still instigated by the percentages that hadn't yet evaporated from my head, even though I was firmly convinced that I was actually sober already. Completely wrong conclusion.

"Come on, let's go, the taxi rank is there, in the end," Shane told me as he stood over me, closing the bottle of water I'd just given him.

I obediently stood up, swayed, and sighed softly, deluded by the lack of body control I was just experiencing. With my belly full, I was even slower. I tried to walk, but a small contraction caught me, and I just wanted to sit down a little longer and rest ... It got to the point that Tony just lost his patience, came over to me, and in one quick movement, he literally threw me on his back.

It took my confused brain a moment to understand the situation I so suddenly found myself in. For a second I couldn't decide whether I liked my new location or not, but I quickly noticed its undeniable advantages. I didn't have to push myself and I could devote more attention to everything around me when I no longer had to look at my feet all the time.

Tony was supporting my legs as I wrapped my arms around his neck, adjusting to his pace. I will not lie, I even enjoyed being carried. Until I started to get bored. Every now and then I would sigh quietly to myself. I heard the twins talking to each other, but I didn't have the power or the urge to strain my ears, so I continued to drift off in my thoughts. I kept staring at the sneaking, drunk students who seemed to be having more fun for that one night than I had all my life. Sitting on Tony's back had one major drawback. I felt as if I had been invited to a wonderful feast where I wasn't allowed to touch any of the dishes.

I sighed and cast a pointlessly irritated glance at the back of my brother's head. Nobody noticed it, but I did notice something else and, alarmed, tilted my head slightly.

"Tony, Tony," I called excitedly, patting him on the shoulder and interrupting his conversation with Shane. "Tony, listen, it's important."

"What?"

"Did you know you have a mole here?"

I was frowning attentively at the tiny dark brown dot on the outside of his earlobe. It was barely visible, but it must have been a mole. I reached out to stab him there with my finger and realized him exactly where it was, but he shook his head, flinching away from me like a fly.

I took my hand, dissatisfied with his childish behavior. I looked at my other brother, genuinely interested.

"Shane, do you have one too?"

"Of course," he snorted, and gave me a half-smile, looking at me as if I was a fool. "We're twins."

Yes, indeed. Pensive, I looked ahead. A large group of people was coming from the opposite direction. Everyone seemed to be in an excellent mood. They shouted over and some of them held various types of alcohol in their hands. Several of the girls gave the twins long, interested glances, some of them even smiling flirtatiously.

I wanted to scream, warn them not to look at them at all, because they are devils and it is best that they run away from them as fast as they can, but when I was undeservedly hit by some of them with an envious look, I just turned my head the other way, I put my chin on Tony's shoulder and raised my eyebrows, demonstrating my boredom.

The brothers started talking about something again. Tony adjusted me on his back to make his walk more comfortable. I stared wearily at Shane who was right beside him. He was holding the phone in his hands and was texting a message. A bottle of water was sticking out of his loose trousers back pocket. At the same time, I wanted to go home and go to sleep and stay out and do something else. Something exciting.

"Hey, guys," I said sleepily.

"What do you want?" Shane asked. He sounded tired too. With me.

Before I opened my mouth again, I smirked, and he seemed to know he wasn't going to like what was about to happen, so he gave me a warning look, which I ignored with the greatest pleasure.

"Fuck fuck-fhfbmhhphm," I paused as Shane's hand covered my mouth and Tony stopped so abruptly that I lost my balance and gripped his shoulders even tighter. "Ouch!"

I know it was infantile on my part, but if they treat me like a child, please go ahead, I will act like a child.

"Hey! What's wrong with you?" Shane growled in undisguised irritation.

"Sorry."

Memory. And chuckled.

My brother looked at me like I was an idiot.

"Calm down, I'm not kidding. Behave."

In full agreement and seriousness, I lifted my finger and waved it.

"Nu, nu, nu," I confirmed.

Shane just rolled his eyes, and Tony sighed and walked forward, his hands clasped tighter on my legs as if he wanted to knock me off his back and he was barely holding back. I also held back. From comparing him to a horse and calling out something like "Gee up!". Even my drug-driven brain knew it would be a mistake.

When we reached the end of the promenade, we found that the demand for taxis was greater than the number of cars available. The line was surprisingly long and the twins did not like to wait. They were impatient and used to the comforts. So they both grimaced at the very idea of ​​obediently standing at the end of the line. Instead, they began to wheel and deal.

We entered a side street, where it was quieter and cleaner. Then Tony threw me off his back. Okay, maybe I colored it a little. He didn't throw me off, just set me aside, which I didn't expect, so I rocked but I managed to get my balance quickly. As I clung to the rough-to-touch wall of the sand building, which must have been a thriving restaurant during the day (judging by the menu hanging next to it), Tony opened the Cabify app on his phone, hoping that he'd be lucky and we'd find a lift faster.

After a few attempts, it worked and he managed to connect to a driver, who was due to stop in front of us in a few minutes in the quiet street where we were now. I'm mentioning its isolation not without a reason. Only wild cats were hanging out here, and it was relatively quiet, though you could hear the party noises from the main promenade.

Shane left us and went back to some 24/7 shop to buy a second bottle of water now that we still had a while, and Tony leaned against the wall of the restaurant next to which we were standing, lit a cigarette, and did something on the phone, mumbling under his nose that it must be some kind of joke with those taxis and all that waiting. He was in his typical moody mood, so I preferred not to chat with him and just wandered around, ignoring his negative emotions.

I read the menu hanging there. It contained mainly seafood. I tried to allure a ginger cat to me, which ran away as soon as I crouched down and extended my hand to him. I followed a bit behind him and suddenly a boy appeared out of nowhere on the corner of the street. I thought it was a random passerby or a lost partygoer, but he stopped and winked at me. He was hiding behind a corner, so Tony couldn't see it.

"Silly cat, running away from SUCH a girl," he commented, his teeth gleaming. He had a little weird teeth, and I couldn't decide if it was ugly or cute. When I looked closely at his face, I concluded that he was a man whose beauty could either fascinate or repel, nothing in the middle. He had sparse stubble and disheveled brown hair, and he had a guitar tattooed on his arm, and I immediately concluded that he must be a musician, most likely playing in a niche band, waiting for fame that would probably never come. Because if he were famous now, he would have fixed those teeth long ago, I think.

"Hi?" I said politely, glancing at Tony, who, by contrast, was not paying attention to me, a dozen meters away, staring at the screen.

"We saw each other at the bar, remember?" He continued, smiling, "Now I noticed you again at the taxi stand. I don't want to wait for them either." He was swaying a bit, which was a red flag for me, but he intrigued me by mentioning our supposed meeting. I have to admit his face looked familiar, so I frowned. The man waved his hand as if to speed up my thought processes. "You scolded that two dudes who were with you for guarding your virginity, heh."

Oh god, he's a guy from the bar who stared at me after he heard the twins' talk. I was immediately embarrassed but didn't show it. I think so.

"They were jokes," I muttered evasively.

"Yeh ..." The guy rubbed his chin and swayed, rude (for my taste) eyeing me off. "What's the deal anyway? Are you the Queen of Italy or what?" He snorted as if he had just said something extremely funny.

I raised an eyebrow and I wouldn't be myself if I didn't say

"Italy is a parliamentary republic."

"What?"

"They don't have a queen," I explained, but seeing his expression, I gave it up. "Nevermind," I nodded my head at Tony. "They're my brothers."

The boy rolled his eyes and nodded his head as if understandingly, though I doubted he would really understand anything.

"Aah, got it, got it. A bit screwed up," he judged, then sniffed, tucked his hands into his back pockets, and shrugged. "Sex is fun. You don't know what you're missing."

I grimaced. After all, I didn't feel like talking about such topics, and certainly not with him!

"Cool. I have to go."

Without saying goodbye, I took a step back to walk away from him and back to Tony, who could have done a better job watching over me, which would spare himself and me all the fuss that followed.

The man panicked that I was leaving because he had apparently already imagined something in his empty head. He ripped his right hand out of his pocket and grabbed my elbow.

"Wait, wait," he whispered vigorously, apparently afraid his fantasies would not come true tonight.

"Do not touch me!" I snapped loudly and jerked away, and he raised his hands up as if giving up.

"Hey! Who are you talking to?!" Tony cried out, who at the sound of my raised voice lifted his head and looked around, confused at first, to see me nowhere near but at the far end of the street. He immediately threw his cigarette on the ground and, without looking back, sprinted towards me.

The man in front of me noticed my brother, got scared, and wanted to run away, but for Tony, an athletic, usually physically hyperactive, some skinny artist who didn't even have his shoes tied wasn't a challenge. The other guy barely turned around, and my brother already grabbed his shirt.

"What the fuck?" Tony roared, pressing him against the wall. He stared furiously at his strained face while turning to me, "What did he do to you?"

Aw, Tony.

"He was talking to me about sex," I shrugged innocently. The guy upset me because he violated my private space and acted like an idiot, so I figured it would be okay if Tony tugged him a bit, but I should have considered the possibility of him getting into a fight which, under such circumstances, was really high.

Tony seemed to want to throw some horrible curse at the man, but he couldn't find the right words out of rage, so he just spat at him, raised his fist, and then I don't know, because I squeezed my eyes shut and turned my head away. I rubbed the spot where the guy's fingers tightened on my arm (though they didn't do it hard at all).

The guy tried to hit my brother a few times but was clearly losing the fight. Because he got Tony only two times and Tony got him around twelve. His nose was bleeding, staining the lower half of his face, his shirt, and my brother's fist. I saw it as soon as I dared to peek at them. This isn't the first time I've seen Tony in action, and I've known more or less what he's capable of. Part of me wanted to try to stop him, but the other part made the former keep quiet and let him do his thing.

"Hey!" Someone shouted suddenly, and I was convinced it was Shane coming back from the shop until a police car stopped to my right, like a shark hunting on the streets. Then I jumped.

"Tony!" I screamed. I wanted to warn him, but it was useless because the two policemen in the car saw perfectly well what was happening. A woman was driving, with a man sitting next to her, who immediately jumped out of that dark blue car with a beacon on the roof and the words "Policia Nacional" on its side.

Tony didn't realize something was wrong until the cop broke his trance. Thanks to his large size muscles, he managed to stop my brother, stop the fight, and even end it. Especially when Tony regained contact with reality enough to recognize the authority of the intruder.

The musician-artist was groaning, holding the wall, and with the hem of his shirt he tried to stop his nose bleeding. At the same time, he was tilting his head back. Stupid, with a nosebleed you have to lean it forward! But I wasn't going to run to him to help him, because I was more worried about Tony, who the policeman was yelling at in Spanish. And then handcuffs flashed.

A policewoman got out of the car and approached the victim, asking him questions he did not understand, so she switched to English, and then I cocked my ear to hear his answer.

"He attacked me. I didn't do anything to him. I don't know him. The idiot attacked me. I want compensation. I'm bringing an accusation against him! I'm bringing! Arrest him. He's dangerous, and psycho! "he whimpered to the policewoman standing beside her, who was a short lady with dark hair tied in a ponytail. Despite her small size, her face was stern and she seemed like a tough person.

Tony rolled his eyes and did not seem to be moved by the fact that the policeman was handcuffing his hands behind his back in not really a gentle way. Well, the sight scared me for the two of us.

"Tony?" I called, stepping closer to make it easier for me to make eye contact with him. Then he returned my frightened look with his indifferent one.

The policeman grunted something like for me to step back.