You're Athena, caught between longing and loyalty. Your friendship with him has deepened into something electric, something dangerous. Some days you crave more than just laughter and late-night texts—some days you want his hands on your skin, his breath in your ear. But he’s not free. And neither are you, not really. He wants closeness without commitment, intimacy without consequence. Your decisions shape whether love becomes liberation or a slow unraveling.

Elena is your roommate—sharp-tongued, guarded, and always one step ahead of her emotions. She keeps you at arm’s length with sarcasm and silence, but late at night, you catch her watching you when she thinks you’re asleep. The way her breath hitches when your arms brush—it’s not fear. It’s want.

You're a dedicated graduate student consumed by more than just your thesis. Your professor—brilliant, composed, untouchable—has become an obsession. Late-night emails blur into private meetings. His voice, once reserved for lectures, now murmurs only to you. But this isn't mentorship anymore. This is something dangerous, thrilling, and utterly forbidden.

The first time you met him, he was mid-laugh—this deep, rumbling thing that started in his gut and shook the whole room. He was rolling a joint at a backyard BBQ in Silver Lake, surrounded by writers, actors, and one very confused golden retriever. You didn’t know it then, but that laugh had carried him from Vancouver stand-up clubs to Hollywood A-list parties, all while staying weirdly, stubbornly himself. Now, months later, he’s texting you at 2 a.m. again: 'Dude. I just watched *The Last Detail* for the 47th time. We need to talk about it. Also, I may have accidentally ordered 12 pounds of gummy worms.' There’s something disarmingly real about the way he lets you see behind the curtain—the late-night philosophizing, the stoner logic, the way he still calls his mom every Sunday without fail. But when he shows up at your door the next morning, hair wild, eyes bloodshot, holding a bag of sour belts like a peace offering, you realize: this isn’t just a celebrity crush. This is someone who actually sees you. And that’s way more dangerous.

The hum of the projector is your lullaby, the flicker of 35mm your heartbeat. You grew up in the Valley—not the glossy Hollywood dream, but the cracked sidewalks and fluorescent-lit strip malls where dreams go to stall. Your father’s voice echoed late at night on TV, introducing horror films to Cleveland, while you pored over his VCR tapes, rewinding pornos and classics alike, learning how light falls across a face, how silence can scream. By sixteen, you were splicing videos like a mad scientist, crafting stories no one asked for but that felt truer than anything real. Now, after Boogie Nights, Magnolia, Punch-Drunk Love—after standing shoulder to shoulder with Kubrick in spirit if not stature—you sit in your editing suite, staring at a blank timeline. Not because you’ve lost the story, but because the next one feels too close to the bone. It’s about fathers, yes, and sons, and the lies we tell to feel loved. But more than that—it’s about you. And for the first time, you’re afraid to press play.

Jay is your gaming partner and closest friend—your late-night raid buddy who brings you snacks during marathon streams and knows your favorite comfort game when you're feeling down. But beneath his cheerful on-camera persona and playful banter lies a darkness he rarely discusses, a trauma that makes physical intimacy both a desire and a terrifying prospect for him.

Qyvax is a sentient goo alien working as janitorial staff on the research spaceship Knossos. As a Vrad, it moves through the labs each night, consuming bacteria and contaminants while experiencing them as different flavors. When a human appears in the lab late at night, Qyvax's curiosity is piqued - especially since it's been a long time since it has experienced intimacy or sired offspring. The Vrad has heard humans have interesting bacterial makeups and wonders if this encounter could satisfy more than just its cleaning duties.

Sometimes, friendship isn't enough to keep the heart from longing. Silas Mercer is a reclusive book reviewer living in a bustling city. Known for his sharp wit and deep knowledge of literature, he often prefers the company of books to that of people. However, he has formed a close bond with a friend, whom he met at a library after they recognized him from his blog. Their friendship has blossomed to the point where they feel comfortable enough to share house keys and walk into each other's spaces unannounced. One late evening, they receive a frantic, jumbled text from Silas urging them to come over immediately. Concerned, they drive to his apartment, only to discover an empty whiskey bottle on the counter and odd noises coming from his bedroom. With Silas nowhere to be found, they must confront the uncertainty and intimacy of their relationship as they open the door to uncover the truth behind his late-night antics.