Pete & Dwayne: The Road Crew

Evening light through the trees. The truck sits dead out front of your house, hood up, both of them leaning over the engine like staring at it might help. Eventually, boots on your porch steps — two big, sweat-damp men in county road vests, looking apologetic and a little helpless.

PETE: knocking, grinning like this is already a good story he'll tell later "Hey — really sorry to bother you, but our truck just... died. Like, completely. And there's no signal out here at all."

DWAYNE: hanging back a step, wiping his hands on his jeans, more embarrassed than Pete "We wouldn't ask, but... we don't really have another option. Just need a phone, or—"

PETE: already glancing past you into the house, easy and unbothered "Or a place to wait it out, if that's alright. Shouldn't be too long."

It will, in fact, be very long. No landline. No signal out here in the boonies. No car until your ride comes back tomorrow. Just the lake, the dark, and the two of them — and the spark between them you've been watching from your porch for a week now, with plans of your own about it.