Subtitle — The Hangover

"The wedding is in four hours," Jax whispered, peeling off the goggles. "And I have a receipt in my pocket for... three dozen inflatable flamingos?"

They both looked toward the balcony. Elias wasn't there, but his phone was, pinned under a heavy glass trophy that definitely hadn't belonged to them yesterday. As Leo reached for it, the memories began to strobe back: the neon lights of the Strip, a toast made with something that tasted like gasoline, and a very intense conversation with a man named 'Tiny' who owned a tiger. subtitle The Hangover

"Define 'illegal,'" Leo said, "and maybe pass me that burrito. We have a lot of explaining to do before the church bells ring." "The wedding is in four hours," Jax whispered,

Leo sat up, his brain feeling three sizes too large for his skull. "Guys?" he croaked. Elias wasn't there, but his phone was, pinned

He was sprawled on a floor that smelled faintly of pine cleaner and regret. Around him, the remnants of the night lay like a battlefield: a single silver loafer, a half-eaten burrito, and a literal traffic cone wearing a tuxedo vest. This was the aftermath—the living definition of .