Video Transcription
The night air on San Juan's eve smelled of salt, burnt wood and something more, an intangible whisper floating among the dunes.
The beach stretched before us, a pale sand sheet under an oversized moon that seemed to have drawn closer just to watch.
We were five friends who'd known each other since summers were endless and nights had no end.
I'm Lucas and with Sara, Diana, Clara and Mateo we'd rented an old coastal house with creaky windows that smelled of damp wood.
But tonight, the solstice, the night of fire, we'd stay out.