This was then followed by Heaven screaming Ross's name so passionately it silenced the hallway.
What truly amazed everyone, though, wasn't the intensity.
It was the fact that no one saw anything.
Not even a glimpse.
The covers on Ross's bed never moved aside. Nothing peeked out.
Just a giant, oddly still blanket—and all the chaos happening beneath it.
Now, as the group gathered around the kitchen island sipping coffee and nibbling toast, the discussion naturally turned toward Ross's "midnight show."
"I swear, that guy's using a magic blanket," Jason said, shaking his head as he poured cereal into his bowl.
"Like, how the hell do you do that for hours and not even a foot pops out?"
"Forget the blanket," one said, already laughing,
"How's he not dead? Two women. Loud as hell. And didn't it sound like they both finished multiple times?"
"Bro's got infinite stamina," another housemate joked. "I need whatever supplements he's on."
