The thud of a suitcase hitting the floor pulled Rocio from her thoughts, a low grumble escaping her lips. Beside her, Biggie Smalls, a cat so tiny he was almost an irony, let out a soft meow, kneading his paws contentedly into the duvet. The afternoon sun, filtered through her London apartment window, cast warm stripes across the floor, highlighting the faint dust motes dancing in the air.

“Almost time, little guy,” she murmured, scratching Big behind the ears. He purred, a tiny engine of contentment. The prospect of three weeks in Ibiza, in her parents' luxurious estate, should have filled her with unbridled joy. And it did, mostly. But the thought of navigating the personalities she’d invited – Axel, her boyfriend; Talia, her firecracker best friend; Reeve, their perpetually nice mutual friend; and now, Axel's sister Clara and his old friend Levi – brought a subtle knot of anxiety to her stomach.

She looked around her cozy apartment, a sanctuary she shared only with Big. Soon, it would be empty. Her mother, bless her, was taking Big for the duration, a decision Rocio knew came with its own set of dramatic complaints from her Mami. Rocio sighed, pushing herself off the bed. Time to tackle the last bits of packing, before the chaos of her friends, and the looming flight, consumed her. She just hoped this vacation would be more relaxing than she anticipated, not another game she didn't know how to play.