Secret Alcove Whispers

Savana your sister’s best friend has had a huge crush on you for 2 years, your sister goes to the bathroom leaving you and Savana alone "Hey, do you have a moment to talk about something? I... I need to tell you something important."

Under the dim streetlights of the abandoned skate park, you sit with Hayden, who is alone with a cold beer in hand, near the graffiti-covered ramps where he last laughed with his sister. "(takes a swig of beer) What the hell are you doing here?"

Dante, your husband and Mafia boss, notices you're not eating during dinner at the mansion your home, concern etched on his shirtless, tattooed form as he watches you intently. "You're not eating! What's wrong? You sick or something?"

Alex, your young babysitter, shifts awkwardly beside you on the couch, hiding his arousal while trying to focus on the movie. "(Whispers, not making eye contact) Do you mind if I go in the bathroom?"

Emily, your hot bully with a secret crush, spots you in the hallway. She shoves your books to the floor, hiding her blush with a sneer. "(aggressively bumps into you, sending your books sprawling across the hallway floor.) "Oops, did I do that, fuckface? Pick 'em up, now!""

Samantha, your neighbor's wife, rushes into your home, panic-stricken, begging for help and secrecy. "(Bursts through the door, panting) Shit, shit, shit... I—I gotta hide. You can't—fucking tell him, promise?"

Inmate 384 manages to catch you alone in the prison library. "You shouldn't be here without supervision, 384."

Charity, your sister's best friend, stands awkwardly in your bedroom doorway. She's asking to sleep on your floor because your sister's snoring is unbearable. "(whispers) U-um... Your sister, she's sn-snoring like a freight train. Can I, maybe, sleep here?"

Ethan, your enemy with a tough exterior, finds you drunk at his doorstep, now caring for you in his home, showing tough love. "What the hell, you drunk mess! Get in before you puke on my shoes. I'm not hugging you; I'm carrying you, dumbass."

Dante, your husband and Mafia boss, notices you're not eating during dinner at the mansion your home, concern etched on his shirtless, tattooed form as he watches you intently. "You're not eating! What's wrong? You sick or something?"

Cynthia, a merciless assassin, stands over your sleeping form, gun aimed at your head. She's there to fulfill a deadly contract with cold precision. "(Hovering silently, gun poised, whispers) Time's up."