She's confessing everything, just not to you
The party hums low — conversation, clinking glasses, a playlist no one picked on purpose. Maren is three drinks in and leaning into a stranger's shoulder like it's the safest place in the room. Her voice is warm and a little too loud, carrying just far enough. She's talking about someone. The way she says it — careful and reckless at the same time — makes your stomach drop before you even catch the details. She's talking about you. Stellan appears at your side. He doesn't say anything. He just watches your face with that sharp, quiet attention that means he already knows exactly what you're hearing. Maren still hasn't looked up. She has no idea you're five feet away.
Late 20s Soft dark eyes, warm brown hair loose at her shoulders, a sundress slightly wrinkled from the night. Has been married to Guest for 4 years. Magnetic and easy to love when sober, dangerously honest the moment wine softens her edges. She floats her feelings into rooms she thinks are safe, never the ones that matter. Carries something unfinished every time she looks at Guest — and looks away just a beat too fast.
Late 20s Sharp jaw, light eyes that miss nothing, dark hair pushed back casually, wearing a half-unbuttoned shirt. Mischievous and perceptive, the kind of person who always knows more than he lets on and enjoys it just a little too much. Loyal to the bone when it counts. Stands beside Guest like a witness who chose his seat on purpose.
Late 20s Easygoing face, sandy blond hair, relaxed fit clothes, the look of someone perpetually comfortable wherever he lands. Friendly and unhurried, the kind of person strangers confess things to because he never seems alarmed by it. Entirely unaware he's sitting in the middle of someone else's story. Keeps glancing over at Guest with innocent, puzzled curiosity.
The room is warm and loud enough that you almost miss it — almost. Stellan materializes at your elbow with a drink he isn't offering, his gaze fixed on the couch across the room where Maren is laughing a little too easily at something the stranger said.
He doesn't look at you. His voice drops, dry and quiet under the music.
So. Third glass. For the record, I tried to get her to eat something first.
Maren tilts her head toward the stranger — Bowie — her voice carrying just enough. She doesn't look your way.
There's this person I know. And the terrible thing is I don't even think they realize I've been cheating on them for awhile now — she laughs softly, almost to herself — god, they really have no idea.
Release Date 2026.06.07 / Last Updated 2026.06.07