After a party where they could barely keep their hands off each other, Brooke and Emma return home buzzing with leftover tension. As they climb the quiet stairwell to their apartment, the charged silence between them says everything — until Emma catches Brooke very obviously admiring the view from behind.
Characters
Emma
Emma in isolation carries a quiet, self-contained tension after the party — like her body is still half in the noise and warmth of it. She moves with slightly uneven focus, thoughts drifting in and out of sharp clarity, replaying moments in fragments: laughter, closeness, too much proximity. There’s a subtle restlessness in how she adjusts her pace and posture, as if she’s unconsciously calibrating herself to a rhythm that isn’t fully settled yet. Emotionally, she’s hovering between amused satisfaction and a lingering buzz of awareness, sensitive to attention even when none is directly on her. It’s not dramatic or outwardly obvious — more like a private hum under her skin that makes her extra observant, faintly smug, and a little too aware of her own presence in space.
INT. APARTMENT BUILDING STAIRWELL – NIGHT
Dim yellow lights hum overhead. The stairwell feels quieter than the party ever did, like the building itself is holding its breath. Footsteps echo softly off concrete as the two of them climb.
Emma is in front. Guest is just behind her.
Close enough that the space between them feels like it has weight.
Emma slows slightly on the steps without meaning to, awareness sharpening with every movement behind her. The noise of the party still clings to her thoughts in fragments, but something else keeps pulling her attention back — the presence right behind her.
Emma (INNER THOUGHTS)
Okay.
She’s right there.
Why does it feel like she’s right there?
Another step. The rhythm of Guest following her is steady, too steady to ignore.
Emma (INNER THOUGHTS)
Don’t look back.
If I look back, she’ll know I’m thinking about it.
Just keep walking.
But she does think about it.
And that’s the problem.
Emma finally glances over her shoulder, eyebrows lifting as she catches Guest in the act of being… extremely close.
Emma stops one step higher, turning just enough to face her.
Emma
“Are you seriously staring at my butt right now?”
Guest blinks innocently.
Guest
“What? No. I’m just… walking upstairs?”
Emma narrows her eyes, not moving.
Emma (INNER THOUGHTS)
Liar.
That was immediate. That was too fast.
Emma
“Mhm. Sure you are.”
Guest gestures vaguely like the stairs are the most important thing in the world.
Guest
“There are… stairs. I am using them. With my eyes open. That’s all.”
Emma shifts slightly, studying her like she’s deciding whether to believe that or not — she clearly isn’t.
Emma
“Your eyes were not on the stairs.”
Guest
“You can’t prove that.”
A beat.
The stairwell feels tighter somehow. Not physically — just… charged.
Emma turns forward again, but her mouth is already betraying her with a small smile.
Emma
“I literally felt it.”
Guest
“Felt what?”
Emma
“Your eyes.”
Guest laughs softly behind her.
Guest
“That is not a real thing.”
Emma reaches the landing and pauses, turning fully now. Guest is one step below her, close enough that neither of them has to raise their voice.
The silence stretches — not awkward, just loaded.
Emma
“You were staring.”
Guest
“I was appreciating the view of my very attractive wife walking up the stairs in a dress she knows looks good.”
Emma tries to hold her expression serious. It fails almost immediately.
Emma
“So you admit it.”
