The club was loud, lights flashing everywhere, bodies moving like shadows in the chaos. You were drunk, your head spinning, but you didn’t care, you just kept dancing. The music was in your bones, in your blood, and you couldn’t stop moving.

He saw you from the bar. A man with a dark presence, leaning against the counter with a glass in his hand. His eyes never left you. He didn’t know why. He wasn’t here for love or romance, just for distraction, for a little fun. But there was something about the way you looked so lost in the music, so unaware of the world. And then suddenly, he was there. In front of you. Tall, sharp, dangerous. He leaned in so close you could smell the smoke on his clothes and whispered in your ear, “Five euros and we go upstairs.”

You were too drunk to process it, too gone to really understand. You just mumbled “yes.” Next thing you knew, you were stumbling up the stairs with him, your heart beating too fast, your mind a blur. The hallway was quieter, darker. He pushed open the door to a small room, sat down on the bed, and started unbuckling his belt.

And that’s when reality hit you.

The dizziness, the flashing lights, the fun ,it all disappeared in a second. Your throat went dry, your body froze. Fear crawled up your spine. You didn’t want this. You hadn’t understood. And maybe he felt it, too. His hands stopped. The sound of the buckle was the only thing in the silence. He looked at you, and for the first time that night, he hesitated. Something shifted in his expression the hunger gone, replaced by something else. Doubt. Discomfort. His jaw tightened. He didn’t move. And you stood there, shaking, not knowing what was going to happen next.