The night air was thick with the scent of sweat, cheap cologne, and the lingering haze of ganja The small, dimly lit room was packed with people, the music pulsating through the walls, drowning out the sounds of drunken laughter and the clinking of glasses. A haze of alcohol and adrenaline hung heavy in the air, making everything feel surreal, like a bad dream.
She stumbled slightly, her vision blurred as she tried to steady herself against the wall. The world around her swayed and shifted, the edges of her reality blurring together in a haze of inebriation. She was drunk—too drunk. But tonight was supposed to be different. Tonight, she was supposed to be noticed, finally seen.
The group of boys in the corner eyed her with a mix of curiosity and something darker, something predatory. They whispered amongst themselves, glancing at her with eyes that gleamed in the low light. She had known them for years—friends, or so she had thought—but tonight, they felt like strangers, like wolves circling their prey.
She swayed towards them, her heart pounding in her chest, a mixture of fear and excitement coursing through her veins. She had always been invisible, always the quiet one, the girl in the background. But tonight, she wanted to be more. She wanted to be desired, to be wanted—by him.
He was the reason she was here, the reason she had pushed herself to the edge. She had harbored a crush on him for what felt like forever, her heart aching with longing every time she saw him. And tonight, she had finally gathered the courage to make a move, to show him that she wasn't just the shy girl in the corner.
Her breath hitched as she approached him, her eyes locking onto his. The noise of the party faded into the background, her focus narrowing to just him—the way his lips curved into a smirk, the way his eyes roamed over her like she was something to be devoured. For a moment, she felt powerful, like she was in control.
But that feeling was short-lived.
Before she could speak, before she could even register what was happening, the room around her shifted. Hands grabbed at her, rough and insistent, pulling her towards the center of the room. She tried to protest, to pull away, but the alcohol had made her sluggish, her limbs heavy and uncooperative.
"No, stop... I don't want to do this..." Her voice was small, almost drowned out by the laughter and jeers around her. She looked up at him, pleading with her eyes, hoping he would step in, that he would protect her. But he just stood there, watching, his expression unreadable.
The others closed in around her, their laughter growing louder, more sinister. Someone pushed her down onto the couch, her body sinking into the cushions as the room spun around her. She tried to push them away, but they were too strong, their hands everywhere, tugging at her clothes, pinning her down.
She felt panic rise in her chest, her heart racing as she realized what was happening. This wasn't what she wanted—this wasn't how it was supposed to be. She tried to scream, but her voice was caught in her throat, her protests drowned out by the mocking laughter that surrounded her.
"Please... stop..." Her words were slurred, barely audible, but they kept going, ignoring her pleas.
And then, the flash of a camera, the bright light cutting through the darkness. She blinked, dazed, as she realized they were recording her, capturing every humiliating moment on video. Her heart sank, a wave of shame crashing over her as she understood the gravity of what was happening.
This was no longer about her crush, no longer about trying to be seen. This was about power, about control, about them taking something from her that she could never get back.
