LISA
For a third time, Jackson tries to hand me his cup. "C'mon, man. Just one drink, it's your twenty-first birthday, dude—it's illegal not to!"
Because it will get me out of here smoother, I finally relent. "Fine, one drink. But that's it."
Smiling, he pulls his cup back and grabs the bottle of liquor out of Bambam's hand. "Okay, then. At least have a proper one," he says.
I roll my eyes before taking a swig of the dark liquid. "All right, that's all. Now you can leave me alone," I tell him, and he nods in agreement.
I head to the kitchen to get another cup of water, and Rosé, of all fucking people, stops me. "Here," she says, handing me my phone. "You left it on the couch when you got up."
Then she wanders back into the living room.