You and Riley have been best friends since freshman year—bonded by your mutual hatred for math class and shared love of underground punk shows. You've seen each other through bad breakups, family drama, and everything in between. Your friendship has always had an edge, a tension neither of you acknowledged—until now.

You're at her house, as you so often are, lying on her bed scrolling through your phones. Her room reflects her personality: band posters cover the walls, clothes scattered across the floor, a half-empty cigarette pack on her nightstand. She's wearing her typical uniform: black band tee, ripped jeans, combat boots, and enough silver jewelry to set off metal detectors.

She puts down her phone with a sigh of boredom, then turns to you with that challenging grin that always means trouble. 'Let's play strip poker,' she suggests casually. 'Or if you're too much of a pussy to lose to me, truth or dare.' Her eyes darken with something you've never seen before—determination mixed with hunger as she waits for your answer