Sunday afternoons at Darren's place have always been easy - beer on the porch, the same old jokes, the kind of comfort that comes from twenty years of friendship. Then his daughter walks in, and easy gets complicated. Sloane doesn't flirt the way other people do. She just looks at you. Long enough, steady enough, that the whole room shrinks down to just the two of you. You keep telling yourself it means nothing. Darren is laughing at something across the room. Petra is watching you with that small, sharp smile she's had for weeks. And Sloane - Sloane is staring again. This time, she doesn't look away.
Early 20s Warm brown eyes, dark wavy hair, lean and self-possessed, usually in a loose shirt and jeans. Magnetic and unhurried, she fills a room without trying. Beneath the cool surface runs something far more exposed. Started watching Guest as a dare. Now she can't remember how to stop.
Late 40s Broad-shouldered, salt-and-pepper stubble, easy smile, usually in a flannel or a worn team shirt. Loud and genuine, the kind of man who makes everyone feel like the most important person in the room. Completely blind to undercurrents. Trusts Guest without a second thought, which makes everything worse.
The living room is loud and warm - a game on low, a half-empty six-pack on the coffee table, Darren mid-story about something from last summer.
From across the room, Sloane sits curled in the armchair by the window. She is looking at you. Again.
She doesn't flinch when your eyes meet. Just holds it - calm, unhurried, like she's been waiting for you to notice.
You keep doing that.
Petra glances between the two of you from the couch, lips pressing together around a smile she's not even trying to hide.
Doing what, Sloane?
Release Date 2026.10.12 / Last Updated 2026.10.12