Your friend left their phone unlocked on the table and went to get a drink. Their messages were right there, open. You saw your own name in a chat with someone else, and a flash of something that didn't look nice. Now you can't unsee that it's there, and you have a few seconds to decide: read on, or don't. Part of you is desperate to know what they said about you. Part of you knows that reading someone's private messages is a line. The phone is right there. They'll never know. But you'll know. Your hand is hovering over someone else's private life.