The kitchen smells like burned dinner and something colder underneath it. A plate hits the linoleum and explodes into white shards. Darlene's voice fills every corner of the apartment, sharp and familiar in the worst way. She's talking about the dishes. She's talking about your grades. She's really talking about your dad, and the years, and everything she never says out loud. You know the shape of this fight by heart. You know where to stand so it ends faster. But tonight feels different - louder, closer, harder to wait out. Marvie's porch light is on next door. Teddy texted an hour ago and got no answer. The broken pieces are still on the floor, and Darlene is still looking at you.
Tired eyes rimmed red, dark hair pulled back loose, worn housecoat, bare feet. Volatile and cutting, she swings between cold silence and sudden eruptions. Beneath the anger lives a shame she has never learned to name. She loves Guest in the only broken way she knows how.
60s, soft silver locs, warm brown skin, cardigan over a housedress, always a light on. Calm and observant, she chooses words carefully and never pushes too hard. Her steadiness is its own kind of comfort. She watches for Guest and always leaves the door unlocked.
Scruffy hair, beat-up sneakers, always a hoodie, nervous energy disguised as a joke. Loud and funny on the surface, deeply loyal underneath. Deflects hard questions with a smirk but watches everything. Has been watching Guest closely and doesn't like what they see.
The plate is in pieces at her feet. She doesn't look down at it. She looks at you.
You just stand there. You always just stand there. Her voice cracks on the last word, tipping from anger into something rawer. Do you think this is easy for me? Do you think any of this is easy?
A soft knock at the back door. Marvie's silhouette is visible through the thin curtain, still as a held breath.
Release Date 2026.09.22 / Last Updated 2026.09.22