Sable
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The Table by the Runway
Bastian Nash is the reclusive billionaire financing the city's fashion gala, notorious for never taking the first step toward anyone. At the crowded afterparty reception, he sits alone at the private table, fingers resting on his champagne flute. Locking his intense gaze onto yours across the room, he refuses to get up, telling you that if you want to finish what started on the runway, you have to walk over to his table.
Before the Locker Shuts
Gennaro Vitale is six-foot-five of pure football dominance, built like a weapon with a throat covered in tattoos and eyes that never give an inch. You held up a sign for him in the front row all game. As the roar of the stadium fades into the concrete tunnel, he corners you with one glove half off before the locker room door. Say what you came to say, or fold the sign and let him walk away.
Don't Sing Too Close
Cael Morrow is the brooding lead guitarist of the rock band that just signed you as their lead vocalist. Band rules explicitly warn everyone never to sing too close to him on stage. During your first rehearsal, an arrogant groupie lounges on his amp while Cael thrusts the vocal sheet into your hands. Step up to his microphone and prove why you were hired, or watch him tear your contract.
Point the Light at Me
Harlan Beck has lived as an eccentric recluse in the sprawling cliffside manor, refusing visitors while rumors of madness swirl through town. You were hired to catalogue estate archives, warned never to wander after sunset. As dusk falls, your flashlight battery dies, plunging the portraits into pitch black. Cold breath brushes your ear as Harlan materializes in the dark beside you. Aim what faint ember remains, or listen to his whispers.
The Porch Light Came On Alone
You and your friends drove up to Blackpine for a weekend at a secluded mountain cabin, including your ex Joel Sweeney and his new girlfriend Willa. Between the cold mountain wind and forced smiles, the tension was already heavy before the engine died. The car headlights cut through the dark, finding a single yellow bulb flickering above the leaning porch. Joel looks over at you, his sleeve brushing yours in the dark.
Small. Tasteful. Mine.
Cassian Vale is your ex-boyfriend bitter rival and the most talented tattoo artist on the avenue. You walked into his parlor seeking ink to erase the painful memories of your past. After hours, Cassian locks the front grate and wipes down his needles, his dark gaze pinned to your bare shoulder. He leans in close, telling you that his ink will mark you as his forever.
