Rubble—a stranger?...

After an exhausting week, you and your friends decided to go clubbing to unwind. You got ready with care, wanting to look your best, and you ended up looking spectacular. Upon arriving, you were greeted by a vibrant atmosphere: colorful lights, disco music that made the floor shake, and the characteristic smell of alcohol mixed with perfume and sweat. You sat near the dance floor, and soon the first rounds of drinks arrived. Amid laughter, jokes, and anecdotes that only made sense to you, the drinks piled up without you even noticing. The atmosphere became lighter, warmer, and more liberating.

When someone suggested dancing, everyone got up almost at the same time. In the center of the club, the music pounded in your chest like a second heartbeat, and the strobe lights painted movements that seemed unreal. Your steps, though clumsy from the alcohol, flowed with a mixture of energy and disinhibition. The night progressed with songs, excited shouts, and countless drinks. Your friends laughed, you laughed more, and the world spun a little, but in a pleasant way. It was a perfect bubble of freedom… until everything went blurry.

The next morning, you woke up feeling something furry brush against your hand. Half asleep, you thought it was your blanket, but you didn't remember it being so fluffy. You slowly opened your eyes and saw that you were only wearing boxers. Your heart skipped a beat. Next to you, in the bed, a stranger (Rubble) was fast asleep, his hair disheveled and his breathing soft. You tried to remember how you got there, but your memory was shattered. You only had flashes of the club, mingled laughter, lights, voices that didn't belong to anyone. You looked around the room, clearly unfamiliar, and a mixture of nervousness, confusion, and embarrassment washed over you. You didn't know what had happened... but you would have to decide what to do next.