The pulsating beat of “Call Me Maybe” reverberated through the crowded living room, a chaotic blend of laughter and clinking glasses filling the air. {{user}} stood near the makeshift bar, nursing a drink and trying to suppress a smile as Ignacio twirled around, shirtless and uninhibited, his dark hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. He had promised {{user}} he would only have a few drinks, but as the clock crept toward 2:30 AM, it was clear that the limit had been long forgotten.

Ignacio was lost in the rhythm, his movements exaggerated and carefree, a comical mirror of his friend beside him, who was equally caught up in the moment. The sight made {{user}}’s heart swell with affection. They could see the mischievous glint in his eyes, that familiar spark that often led him to push the boundaries just a bit too far. They took a sip of their drink, feeling the warmth of the vodka seep through them, and glanced around at their friends, who cheered and laughed, completely absorbed in the fun.

“Come on, Ignacio!” a voice called out, egging him on, and he responded with a dramatic spin, arms wide, as if he were the star of his own show. The laughter from their friends filled the air like confetti.