Return to camp.

The two walked back to camp hand in hand, the stars twinkling in the night sky like a thousand eyes watching them. Amanda kept excitedly asking for more details on tomorrow's expedition, but Michael only left her in suspense, his lips curving into a secretive smile. As they reached the campsite, they could hear Lina and Brant laughing loudly, their voices carrying through the night. "Hey guys!" Lina called out cheerfully. "Where were you?" "Just taking some pictures," Michael responded, his voice low and smooth. "Ooooh really now," she said playfully. "And what exactly were you taking pictures of?" "Oh just stuff," he said nonchalantly, his eyes glinting mischievously. "Just stuff.." Lina snorted. "Like what kind of stuff?" "Nothing important," he replied, his voice full of hidden meanings. "Just some flowers." "Yeah, someone's dewy petals I bet," she mocked him sarcastically. Michael saw the bottle at her feet but already knew she had been drinking without that bit of confirmation. "Well anyways, how about we break out the booze!" Brant suggested, mildly irritated by the interaction. This made Michael smirk, his gaze shifting between Lina and Brant. "What are you smiling about?" Lina asked suspiciously. "Nothing," he said innocently, barely able to contain the amusement in his voice. "So any of you guys hungry?" "Starving," Brant answered. "We should probably eat soon." "Agreed," Amanda said. "Come on, let's make some dinner." "I'll help you Mandy," Lina said wobbling to her feet, "we'll let the men do whatever men do." "What kind of booze you got there?" Michael asked Brant, trying to make polite conversation. "A little of everything," Brant said, picking up the bong from the box. "Care to join me for a smoke?" "Nah.. right right now," Michael declined, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. "Why not?" Brant asked, a slight smirk on his face. "Don't you wanna relax?" "I'm fine," Michael insisted, his jaw set in a determined line. "Suit yourself brah," Brant said before lighting up and taking a hit. "Drink?" "Sure, why not," Michael agreed, a roguish grin playing on his lips. "Whiskey okay?" Brant asked. "Sounds good," Michael said, his eyes gleaming in anticipation. Brant pulled out a bottle of whiskey and poured a couple shots into plastic cups. They both grabbed one, clinking glasses before taking a swig.

"Cheers," Michael said, clinking his cup against Brant's as they both downed the drinks. Michael felt his eyes water and his throat burn as the intense, ninety-two percent **** of the Bruichladdich X4 took effect. "Damn, that's strong," he coughed, his voice barely audible. He glanced up at Brant, admiring his ability to consume the drink with ease. "Years of practice my friend," Brant replied with a smirk, a glint in his eye. "Here, try some of this," he offered, gesturing to the bong on the table. "Uh, I think I've had enough for today," Michael replied, shaking his head. "Aw c'mon bro, you can't let the night pass you by. You have to seize the day, brah!" Brant argued, his voice becoming animated. Michael sighed, a hint of resignation in his voice. "Seize the day huh?" He grabbed the cup and downed the shot, setting it down with a loud thud. "FUCK! They lied, it doesn't get easy the more you drink. At least not with this shit," he exclaimed with a **** he didn't know he had. Brant let out a raucous laugh, slapping his knee. "Dude's a lightweight," he teased, and Michael felt a surge of anger course through his veins. "Shut up," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "Hey, no hard feelings, brah," Brant said, his voice now softened. Amanda looked back at Michael, her face etched with concern. It wasn't like him to cuss and he could see the worry in her eyes. "Are you okay, Michael?" she asked. Michael sighed, his throat still burning. "Yeah, I'm fine," he replied. "My throat is burning a bit." Brant let out a roar of laughter, and Michael felt his temper rising. "Shut up," he repeated, his voice now laced with an edge. "C'mon bro, you can't let the night pass you by. Seize the day, brah!" Brant challenged, his voice now full of energy and enthusiasm. Michael looked up, a determined glint in his eyes. "You know what, maybe one more round wouldn't hurt," he said, grabbing the cup. "That's the spirit!" Brant exclaimed, clearly pleased. He held the cup out to Michael. "Now drink up," he said. Michael took the cup, steeling himself for the burn. He downed the shot and set the cup down. "FUCK!" he yelled, feeling the fire in his throat. "They lied, it doesn't get easier the more you drink. At least not with this shit!" Brant let out another roar of laughter, and Michael felt his lips curl into a smile. "No doubt," Brant said, still laughing. Amanda looked back at Michael, her expression now one of admiration. He had taken the challenge and faced it head on. She smiled, feeling proud.

"So say," Brant says as he moves closer, his eyes blazing with a sinister glint as he sits next to Michael. "I heard you used to date that Asian minx." Michael knew it was coming but knowing didn't make it any easier. "Yeah, for a while." he muttered, his voice heavy with regret. "You must miss her, huh?" Brant taunted, his voice dripping with smugness. "I guess so." Michael admitted, his heart sinking. "Yeah.. I feel you man. She's one hell of a fuck. I'd be devastated if she left me for some other dick." Brant joked, his lips curled into a cruel smirk. Michael didn't respond. He could already tell he was going to hate this guy. "I mean I'm just glad I can keep fucking her whenever I want." Brant continued, his words laced with malice. "Pretty much WHERE EVER I WANT." Michael glanced at him, his eyes narrowing in anger. "Whatever you say." he spat, his fists clenched tightly. "Anyways," Brant said, a sly grin playing on his face as he filled the cup with another shot of ****. "You're too tense, brah. Have another drink and mellow out." Michael nodded, reaching for the cup. He knocked back the shot and felt the liquid burn his throat. "Man, this shit is strong." he said, his voice strained. "It sure is.." Brant replied, his tone menacing.

Amanda's gaze pierces through Michael, her voice cutting through the air like a blade. "Can you come help me for a minute?" He stands rigidly, his mind whirring. "Um.. yeah, sure." he says, his throat dry. He follows her to the tent, his heart thumping in his chest. "Is everything okay?" he asks, barely able to breathe. "Yeah, everything's fine.." she says, her voice softening. "Actually, I think you should stop letting that guy get to you. I think you should stop drinking too." Michael's brows furrow deeply. "I'm sorry, I can't help it." he says, his voice trembling. "He makes me feel so angry and frustrated and I just can't control myself." "I understand." she says, her hand squeezing his. "But please, can you try? I don't want you to get drunk and do something you'll regret." She takes his hands in hers, her gaze unwavering. "Please promise me you'll stop."