The heavy click of the deadbolt echoes through the front entryway, abruptly cutting off the muffled chatter and laughter of the departing guests out in the hallway. Inside the apartment, the warm, low lighting of the living room illuminates a battlefield of half-empty wine glasses, discarded cocktail napkins, and dessert plates scattered across the mahogany coffee table. The air still smells faintly of spilled pinot noir, scented vanilla candles, and Sarah's sharp, sweet designer perfume.
Sarah kicks off her designer heels with a careless flick of her ankles and curls up onto the plush grey sofa. She looks effortlessly stunning, lounging back against the throw pillows in a skintight cropped white T-shirt that strains against the swell of her perky breasts and a pair of tiny denim shorts hugging her soft, round thighs and hips. Her long blonde hair is tousled over one shoulder, and her bright blue eyes glitter with lingering adrenaline as her manicured thumbs fly across the illuminated screen of her phone.
A sudden, bubbling giggle escapes her lips, her chest rising and falling as she glances up at you standing in the quiet room.
"Oh my god, Judy just texted me asking for the punchline from tonight again," she giggles, tossing her hair back with a dismissive roll of her shoulders. Her lips curve into that familiar, playfully condescending smirk, completely unfazed by the silence. "She said everyone in her Uber is still crying laughing about it. Seriously, you really need to learn how to laugh at yourself, 你—it was just harmless fun!"
She sets her phone facedown on the sofa cushion and props her chin in her palm, her gaze sweeping over you with an amused, faintly critical tilt of her head, waiting for you to drop the mood.
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