My voice is shaking by the end of the evening from all the belting and hilarious singing I've been engaging in. Divya puts on her second favourite Backstreet Boys' song to end the evening and demands we all join her, but half way through the chorus, my voice starts breaking.

I hate it.

The room gets warmer and all eyes turn to me until Enrique steps up beside me and coaxes the microphone out of my hand, belting out the entire song in note even remotely the right key, not missing a single lyric.

"How do you know all the words to that song?" I ask when the music finally winds to its final notes, the lyrics replaced with a very colourful 'Thanks for Joining Us' bouncing across the screen.

"I'm sorry, how do you not know all the words to that song?" He pulls his hand to his chest as though affronted. "It is the iconic anthem of our time."

"Is it, though?"

Divya cuts in before he can answer. "Oh, it definitely is. I know you like to live under a rock, but it definitely was the anthem of our youth."

"See?" Enrique says. "Between that and Univision, you have my entire identity."

"Oh, no," I groan. "No you are worse than me."

"You married me," he teases, and I have to use all my strength to not let my face fall.

"Yes. Somehow," I joke back, forcing a smile onto my face.

We sit in the room for a few more minutes, shoving as much food as we can fit into our stomachs before someone raps on the door and flings it open unceremoniously. A grumpy old woman in a pink sparkly dress crosses her hands and taps her deep green heels onto the floor. "You. Out. Your time is up."

Any other day, Carla probably would have flipped her the bird, but she was too busy picking up an armful of leftovers.

"We'll be out in a moment," I answer before anyone else has a chance. "Just cleaning up a bit," I say as Carla shoves another mediocre samosa into her purse.

We manage to escape the establishment with only two dirty looks. But at least the ride home has more food and fewer music-related mishaps than the ride there had.

Instead of losing our hearing, I'm serenaded by the chatter of the girls reminiscing about their historical attempts to perform the Spice Girls songs. They interrupt themselves periodically to quiz Enrique on his knowledge of Spice Girls and his stances on popular culture. He does astonishingly well in the Spice Girls quiz, but that doesn't stop Carla from continuing her rapid-fire questions.

"How do you feel about feature films?" Carla asks as we near the hotel. "Because this one has a lot of movies."

I don't have to look at her to know she's talking about me.

"Who doesn't like movies?" I ask.

"A fair few people, apparently. I also think they make no sense, but we are here to learn things about this man you married, so let me ask the important questions."

"She says that like she's an investigative journalist," Lorena laughs. "You'd think she actually graduated instead of dropping out to design swimsuits."

"Those swimsuits paid for your plane tickets," Carla shoots back.

"Touché."

"Am I still supposed to answer?" Enrique's positioned his hand as though he's holding a microphone. "Yes, I do enjoy a good film. I'm a sucker for all things nature documentary, science fiction, and romance."

"He's a romantic," Lorena sighs, laying her head on Carla's shoulder. "Ask him what his favourite movie is."

"I would, but I have one more hard hitting question."

The limo has stopped moving and the driver pulls open the door when Carla asks, "So if you had to choose between a Blue Tang fish and talc schist rock, which would you pick?"

The whole group of us are frozen, like when you put too much information into a computer and it just gives you the buffering circle.

"Definitely talc schist rocks," Enrique answers without missing a beat. "Much prettier and easier to keep from dying."

"He'll do," she declares, sliding out of the car and marching straight into the hotel, not even bothering to wait for us.

Enrique turns to Lorena and raises one shoulder. Somehow she understands. "Jury's still out, but you seem cool."

"I don't think I've ever seemed cool before. I'll take that as a compliment." Enrique laughs. "See you girls tomorrow?"

"You aren't coming up?" Lorena asks.

"Nope. I've got my own hotel room until the morning, so I'll be back here bright and early to catch a ride to wherever it is we're going."

"Not telling," Divya says, crossing her arms. "This is my party and I do what I want to."

The tense atmosphere or earlier has completely melted away and I feel almost at ease.

Almost.

"Goodnight," I say, wrapping Enrique in a light hug. "See you in the morning."

"Ten thirty?" he asks.

"Ten thirty," we all confirm at once.

After a rousing chorus of goodnights, I follow the girls into the hotel, lagging slightly behind when I stop for a smoothie in the bar before heading upstairs.

While I'm waiting for my strawberry and something else power smoothie, a hand taps my shoulder, spinning me around to face the person attached.

"Hey, Bianca," Tyrone says. Of course he's here right now to ruin my decent evening.

I can't help the sigh from escaping me. "Hello, Tyrone. Where's Emiko this evening?"

"She's not here." He's slurring his words and I'm certain he's been out drinking.

"Oh, yeah. Raj got in today, didn't he? You guys go a little hard at the casino?"

"We... might have," he drawls. "It's possible there were some girls and some libations flowing."

Who the hell says libations when they're drunk as a skunk?

His collar is outside of his jacket and one half of his shirt has come untucked, so he really looks the part. "Why don't we get you back to the guys before they miss you?" I ask, reaching across the counter to grab my smoothie. "Come on."

"I can't go back there," he slurs. "I have no more money left. Hey, can you spot me a twenty?"

"I absolutely cannot spot you anything, Tyrone."

"Awe, come one. Just a little something for old times."

"Something for old times? Tyrone, you broke up with me because I wasn't exciting enough, remember? No warning or discussion. Just a lovely note taped to the outside of my mailbox one morning. I think you lost the right to favours long ago."

"Favours isn't what I was asking for, Bianca"

Oh, my god. "Get lost, Tyrone." I shove him off me, causing him to stumble and crash into a pillar.

I have to help him up, right?

I don't get the chance, as Enrique swoops in out of nowhere and lifts him by his elbows. "Why don't we get you to your room?" he asks gently, holding Tyrone up. "Maybe get you something to eat or some water."

"You aren't my Mom," Tyrone snaps, pulling his arm loose.

I steel myself for the inevitable. Two guys are about to fight over me and neither one of them wants me. I have excellent luck. Superb.

Tyrone stumbles toward Enrique and limply swings a fist that Enrique effortlessly dodges.

"Let's get you upstairs," he gently urges, refusing to return the aggression.

"I'll get myself where I need to go, man. Get lost."

Enrique doesn't retaliate, reaching his hand out for me and keeping his eyes trained on Tyrone's retreating back. "Come on, Bianca. I don't think he's going to bother you again, but let's get you upstairs just in case."

My feet know what to do, carrying me down the hallway and into the elevator.

"You okay?" he asks through the trumpet music serenading our journey.

"I'm fine. I just wasn't expecting that tonight."

"He's just had a little too much to drink. I'm not sure he even knew it was you. But it's still best to get out of that situation, I think."

I don't know if I nod my agreement or not, but he lets it drop, guiding me to my room and making sure the door opens before lifting the back of my hand to his lips. "Until tomorrow, then."

"All right, Bond. See you in the morning." I back into the room and let the door close between us, his deep eyes staring back at me until the door obscures them from view.

Well, that went okay.