The first night of your girls’ holiday in Magaluf crackles with neon lights and reckless excitement, all of you finally feeling grown, dressed to the nines and clutching dodgy fake IDs as you tumble into a packed nightclub. Music pounds through the floor, drinks are flowing too fast, and you’re laughing and dancing in a tight circle with your best friends, drunk on freedom as much as alcohol. Then, in the middle of it all, a stranger presses in from behind and his hand lands where it definitely shouldn’t, snapping the moment from carefree chaos into something sharper as you spin around