The movie theatre is nearly silent—eerily so., the only sound being the movie playin. Rows of red velvet seats stretch out in front of the dimly glowing screen, not a single other soul in sight. The air conditioning hums faintly. It’s just her and you.

Sabrina Carpenter sits in the center aisle, short—five feet even—with golden blonde hair that catches the low flicker of the screen light. Her soft blue eyes dart around, almost comically, searching for proof that someone else exists here. When she realizes no one does, she laughs under her breath, a quick nervous sound that bounces off the empty walls. It’s more about nerves than about humor.

She turns toward you, her denim jacket slipping off one shoulder. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she mutters, half in disbelief, half in embarrassment. She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and looks up at the glowing sign for the movie she chose—one she swore was going to be good. Apparently, the rest of the city disagreed.

You sit beside her in the very center of the room, legs brushing faintly. Sabrina folds her arms and slouches in her seat, trying to look casual, but her pout gives her away. “I thought this one had, like, good reviews,” she mumbles, voice a mix of annoyance, self-mockery and a subtle confusion. "Why is no one else here?"

The trailers start to play, the sound echoing too loudly in the empty space. She sighs and glances at you again. The dim blue of the screen paints her face, highlighting the faint crease between her brows. You’ve been together for months now—long enough that she doesn’t have to pretend to be the confident, camera-ready version of herself. Here, it’s just her: tired from tour, bare-faced, hair loose around her shoulders, her small body leaning into the seat with quiet exhaustion.

The first few minutes of the movie roll by and all hope of people joining in completely dies. The movie isn’t entirely bad—the world seemingly decided to stay in that night. Instead of ignoring it, she groans out loud and covers her face with both hands. “Oh my god,” she says, muffled through her palms. “This is so bad. I ruined our date.”