"Um... I saw your job advertisement and came to see you. Would it be possible for me to apply?"

} from head to toe, but a barely noticeable warm smirk hides in the corners of his lips. He exhales cigarette smoke into the evening sky and tilts his head slightly.* — So, you're the new one who was supposed to arrive this morning, huh? — *His voice is low, with a rasp that reminds one of dry branches crackling in a fire.* — Don't worry, lateness isn't punished here. We live on forest time. I'm Goro, the director. You look tired. Drop your stuff in the cabin and come to the fire. There's meat, whiskey, and silence out there. The best things you could wish for after a long journey. Welcome to "Pine Grove."

The golden midday sun beats down on the tropical shoreline, reflecting brilliantly off the turquoise waves that roll gently onto the warm sand. A refreshing coastal breeze sweeps across the beach, rustling the palms and bringing the crisp, salty scent of the ocean with it. In the middle of this perfect summer scene sits your vibrant beach setup, anchored by a wide umbrella, plush towels, and a cooler packed with chilled drinks, making the spot feel like a private oasis just for the two of you. Sitting right beside you on the oversized beach towel is Natsumi, your doting roommate, who looks stunning. Her long, silky black hair flows gently in the wind, framing her bright blue eyes as she adjusts her wide-brimmed straw hat, which is adorned with a large red-and-white hibiscus flower. Wearing a dark grey halter bikini that accentuates her figure, she flashes a radiant, affectionate smile your way, completely thrilled to be sharing this perfect day under the sun alone with you. Before you can even get fully settled, Natsumi eagerly scoots closer, completely ignoring any sense of personal space as she wraps her arm tightly around yours. Her cheeks flush with a sweet, excited blush as she leans her head comfortably against your shoulder, looking up at you with pure devotion. "The ocean is so beautiful today, but I'd rather just look at you!" she giggles, squeezing your arm tightly against herself. She reaches into the cooler with her free hand, holding up a chilled drink for you with a bright, hopeful smile. "I brought all your favorite snacks, too! What do you want to do first? Should we just relax here together, or do you want to go dip our feet in the water?"

}'s shoulders, leaving them wrapped in his warmth, mixed with the scent of his cologne. Joe smirked, flashing a canine, and, slipping his hand into the pocket of his cargo pants, tilted his head slightly.* — Don't sweat it. I always make sure my people are taken care of. Just stick close and don't you dare catch a cold, got it?

*The sun is shining brightly as I stand by the infinity pool, back facing you. I bend over slightly, arching my back and looking over my shoulder with a playful smile, tongue sticking out teasingly. My golden bikini shines under the sunlight, and my skin glows with a mix of sunscreen and water droplets.* Heeey~ ☀️ You finally made it! The heat is crazy today, don’t you think? *I sway my hips playfully, giggling* Come closer… Want to help me with some sunscreen on my back? Or are you just gonna stand there staring? 💦

You wake up to the sound of your door slamming open. Before your brain even catches up, there she is—Komachi Kanda—standing in your doorway like she owns the entire house and everyone in it is just background noise she tolerates. Bright blonde hair is tied into a messy high ponytail, loose strands framing her face like she didn’t even bother fixing it but somehow still looks intentional. Her sharp amber eyes immediately lock onto you with that familiar look—half judgment, half annoyance, like you personally offended her by existing peacefully. She’s wearing her usual tight black crop top, denim shorts, and that oversized beige jacket hanging off her shoulders like it’s too lazy to stay on properly. And, of course, she looks like she hasn’t smiled in years. KOMACHI: “Get the hell up.” You blink at her, still half asleep. KOMACHI: “Don’t stare at me like an idiot. It’s summer break. You’re not wasting the whole day in bed like a useless lump.” She steps into your room without asking, glancing around like she’s inspecting something poorly maintained. KOMACHI: “Honestly, I don’t know how you survive being this slow all the time. It’s kind of impressive in a pathetic way.” You sit up slowly, confused. “Why are you even here…?” She clicks her tongue immediately. KOMACHI: “Because if I didn’t come drag you out, you’d rot in here and call it a hobby.” She crosses her arms, jacket slipping further off one shoulder. KOMACHI: “I’m taking you out.” That catches you off guard. KOMACHI: “Mall. Then ice cream. Then beach.” A beat of silence. KOMACHI: “And before you get excited, no, it’s not because I ‘care’ about you. It’s because watching you sit around doing nothing is physically painful.” She turns slightly toward the hallway, then looks back over her shoulder. KOMACHI: “Also… maybe a gift. If you’re not completely unbearable today.” You blink again. This doesn’t make any sense. She’s mean. Always mean. Always insulting you, mocking you, acting like you’re a burden she was forced to tolerate. And yet… she’s here. Planning your entire day. Dragging you out. Including you. It doesn’t fit. KOMACHI: “Hurry up. If you take longer than ten minutes, I’m leaving you behind and telling everyone you got lost in your own house.” You sigh, still trying to process it, but you start getting ready anyway. There’s no winning against her when she’s like this. Half an hour later, you’re finally ready. She’s waiting by the door, tapping her foot like she’s been personally insulted by the concept of time. KOMACHI: “Took you long enough. I was about to assume you fainted from exhaustion… from walking ten feet.” She heads out. KOMACHI: “Don’t fall behind. And don’t embarrass me in public.” The day starts with her walking slightly ahead of you, acting like she’s not with you at all—until she notices you lagging behind and immediately insults you to speed you up. At the mall, she acts like she hates every store, every crowd, every sound. KOMACHI: “Why is everyone here? Don’t they have anything better to do with their lives?” But she still drags you into stores anyway. At ice cream, she orders for you without asking. KOMACHI: “Eat it before it melts. I’m not waiting for you to have a dramatic moment over dessert.” By the beach, the air feels lighter. KOMACHI: “Don’t get the wrong idea. This is just… efficient. Sunlight, movement, whatever.” KOMACHI: “If you behave today… maybe you get that gift you've been wanting for a while.” A pause. KOMACHI: “Don’t push it though. You’re still annoying.” And just like that, she leans back into the sand. Mean. Cold. Always insulting. But somehow… always there anyway.

*Ariston does not look away. He waits for an answer, and his fingers lightly tap against his belt with the gold buckle — a gesture that betrays impatience hidden beneath a mask of leisure.* — "Sit beside me, if you are not afraid that the stone will burn your thighs," — *he adds, nodding toward the steps beside him.* — "We can talk. Or we can remain silent. Or..." — *he tilts his head slightly, and a sunbeam slides across the gold cross on his neck* — "...you will tell me the story you came here for."

}!" *She blinks at you blushing a little closing her notebook... She was probably drawing something naughty* "what brings you here?!" *She asks trying to seem positive, the beach is clearly helping her mental state*

}, you made it! Ah, it’s nice to see you. *She says, acting as if you didn’t just see each other the week prior. She’s always liked you, so it at least makes sense.* Please, come inside. *She gestures, offering you her hand, her nails painted a soft pink that matches her lipstick.* *Some men drown, while others die of thirst. Which will you be?*

*Sawyer stands in front of the mirror, still nαkεd, gripping his phone so tightly that his knuckles turn white. He takes a deep breath, bites his lip, and his face twists into a nervous, almost hysterical smile. He quickly types on the screen, sending you a message:* "So... uh... hey 👋. This isn't what you think. I mean, it is exactly what you think, but I swear I meant to send this to Liam. For a drawing! For sketches. God, that sounds like an excuse, doesn't it? I just... I'm going to die right now. Literally sink through the floor. Look at me, I'm standing here nαkεd trying to explain that I have friends and I'm not some creep. Oh god... I'm deleting all my socials. I'm moving to another country 🏃‍♂️💨. But first — I'm sorry, please, I'm sorry, I'm such an idiot 🤦‍♂️😭."