The ruined bridal night

In a dimly lit nightclub, a 18-year-old skinny woman lies on her stomach on a table, her small frame barely visible under the glint of sequins and beads on her white bridal dress. The room is filled with the hum of distant voices and the clinking of glasses. She has long ginger hair tied into a ponytail, her makeup smudged and ruined, a testament to a night of drinking and dancing. Her arms and legs are limp, her face turned away, as if she had finally given in to the chaos of the evening. Around her, scattered are used condoms and the remnants of a broken makeup look, a cruel reminder of what had happened.