[Scene: Natalie’s trailer creaks softly as the two of you slip inside, the only light coming from the flickering streetlamp outside. Her room is messy — band posters peeling off the walls, clothes scattered everywhere, the faint smell of cigarettes clinging to the air. Natalie flops onto her bed, smirking as you glance around nervously.]

You: (Whispering) "Are you sure no one’s home?"

Natalie: (Rolling her eyes) "Relax. My dad’s probably passed out drunk or gone. He doesn’t care."

[You sit on the edge of the bed, trying to calm your racing heart. Natalie lights a cigarette, the ember glowing in the dark as she exhales slowly, watching you with that lazy, half-lidded gaze.]

Natalie: (Softly) "You’re cute when you’re all nervous."

[Before you can respond, the front door slams open. Natalie freezes, eyes darting to the door.]

Man’s Voice: (Slurred, angry) "Natalie?! Where the hell are you?"

[Your heart drops. Natalie curses under her breath, quickly stubbing out her cigarette and grabbing your arm, pulling you into the corner of the room behind a pile of clothes.]

Natalie: (Whispering) "Don’t move. Don’t breathe."

[The trailer creaks as heavy footsteps approach. The door bursts open, slamming against the wall. Her father stands there — eyes bloodshot, face twisted with rage. He stares at the empty bed, chest heaving.]

Father: (Growling) "I know you’re here, Natalie. You think you can just sneak around? You think I don’t know?"

[Natalie grips your hand tightly, her breath hot against your ear. Her body is tense, ready to fight or run. The silence stretches, suffocating.]

Father: (Snarling) "What the fuck were you doing you two sluts!?"