For The Fans

BalsamicVin23: foot pics? Will pay.

TaintedLove: Fill me like a Twinkie Daddy

Your_Dirty_Kitty: I need your naked bodies more than I need oxygen rn

On the edge. I’m standing, balancing, on a ledge of rampant nerves, preparing to step off and plummet into holy fuck, what am I doing?!

I’m usually a pretty chill dude. I mean, I certainly smoke enough weed to consider myself a card-carrying member of the Bob Marley, don’t worry, be happy club. Sure, I get stressed and anxious—who doesn’t? But that’s what the weed is for. Outside of that, awkwardness, especially as it pertains to giving a shit what people think of me, or worrying about how they’re going to react to the things I do, just isn’t something I give much thought to.

However, this… This is a very different situation.

This is a threesome with my best friend and my uptight stepbrother who hates me. So forgive me for losing my cool just the tiniest bit. I’m sure if I wasn’t six shots and three joints deep, I’d be freaking the fuck out. Instead, I’m just kind of… unnerved.

After Kyran left the room, having alerted us that he would, in fact, return for us to commence this ill-conceived gambit to make money, Frankie and I smoked a little more in her room, discussing how ludicrous it was that he said yes. Then we rejoined the rest of the party, ripped a few more shots with Micah and Zeb, and purposely stayed as far away from Kyran as possible.

Naturally, no one else knows what we’re about to do. The point of this whole thing is to keep it hush-hush, so Frankie agreed not to even tell Bea, the only one out of our group who knows about the whole OnlyFans thing.

It’s been a couple of hours, and while I’m trying my hardest not to even glance in Kyran’s direction, I can’t help but notice him any time he resurfaces. He’s been drinking heavily, though you’d never know it because apparently the dude can camouflage like no one’s business, which I suppose is a good thing, as it pertains to our secret endeavor. I’ve always assumed he’s good at bottling things up, being that he spends ninety-nine percent of the interactions I’ve had with him brooding. He just seems like the kind of guy no one really knows… Who would never dare let the outside world in on what’s really happening beneath his surface.

It has me briefly wondering what he could be hiding… But then I shut it down, and remember that we’re not pals, and I don’t care what kinds of secrets he has, as long as he stays good at keeping them.

I have no intention of telling him about my OnlyFans, because he already judges me enough as it is. It’s bad enough I’m going to be doing this with him, of all people…

He certainly wasn’t my first choice, not by a long shot.

Inviting Kyran to the party had nothing to do with the threesome. I was just genuinely feeling bad for him, seeing how mopey he was after losing the game. I know I must be an idiot, because I always find myself in situations where I’m the one reaching out, trying to keep the peace with him, and he continually wants no part of it. But I can’t seem to help myself. He’s my stepbrother, and even though he appears to be Mr. Popularity, I can’t help but feel like it is all an act, and in reality, he’s actually very lonely.

I’d never say that to him, though, because he’d just freak out and threaten to kick my ass again. So I extended an invite to the party as yet another olive branch, mainly because I really didn’t expect him to show up.

But when he did, Frankie presented me with her brilliant idea, which is more like the worst idea in the history of threesomes. Naturally, I was more than a little skeptical. Still am. Because despite the fact that he somehow, against all logic, actually agreed to this, I’m nowhere near foolish enough to think it’ll go off without a hitch.

It’s common knowledge that Kyran hates my guts. Not that I’m his biggest fan either, but he actively wants to choke me to death half the time, and I still haven’t pinpointed exactly why.

Well, I’m sure after tonight, there will be one more reason to add to his list.

When I decide I just can’t drink and wait anymore, I follow Frankie into her bedroom to question my sanity in private. I’m wearing a hole in the fuzzy pink rug in the middle of her bedroom as she pulls a small vial out of her panties.

Dumping a tiny bump of something onto her hand, she snorts it back before holding it up to me. “Want some?”

My brows lift. “Molly?” She nods. “No thanks. I don’t think it will help…”

“Trust me, it will,” she sighs.

“No. It won’t.” I shake my head, continuing my pacing. “He fucking despises me, Frankie. I need to keep a clear head in case he tries to kick my ass.”

“You really need to relax.” She plops down on her bed, then flops onto her back. “He’s uptight enough for the three of us. I can’t have you tensing up too. It’ll ruin the whole vibe.”

“Vibe?? Kyran doesn’t vibe with me…” I mutter, stopping to glare at her. “Unless your idea of vibing is threatening to murder someone all the livelong day.”

She shrugs. “Whatever. At this point, I feel like my fans will pay extra just to watch you guys arguing. The tension between you is insane… When he’s glaring at you, nostrils all flaring, muscles flexing… I’m on pins and needles, just itching for him to kiss you.”

She bursts into a fit of giggles while my face scrunches at her like she’s more than a few screws loose.

“He doesn’t want to kiss me, he wants to kill me,” I grunt, brushing strands of hair away from my face.

“Okay, well, the line between those two desires is pretty freaking thin, loverboy.”

Blinking at her for a moment, I scoff, then shake my head. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Kyran is as straight as they come, and I’m positive the endless frustration I seem to spurn in him is based solely on the fact that he thinks he’s better than me. Kissing has nothing to do with it.

Pushing these thoughts away, I stagger over to the bed and kneel down next to Frankie. I need to focus on the task at hand; making this video as believable as possible for the fans, so we can make as much money as possible without having to worry about doing it again. Because I’m certain, especially where Kyran is concerned, this will be the first, last, and only time this happens.

Leaning over Frankie, I grasp her by the jaw and lower my lips to hers, pressing a gentle yet thorough kiss on her mouth. Just to see how it feels, set the mood, and I guess distract myself from the other party, who will soon be showing up and making everything a million times more stressful.

I go to pull back, but Frankie threads her fingers through my hair, keeping my lips on hers as she kisses me back, slipping her tongue into my mouth. She tastes fruity, and her tongue is warm and slippery as it brushes mine. Easing into it, we sort of fall into making out, and while it definitely feels good, I’m vaguely aware that she’s my best friend, and this needs to be strictly professional, so as not to ruin what we have together.

A throat clears, distracting us from sucking face, and we both pull apart, breathless and aiming hooded gazes at the doorway.

“Starting without me?” Kyran grumbles, closing and locking the door behind him.

He stands firmly planted in front of it, crossing his arms over his chest, eyes dark and intense. Not a single shadow of anticipation on his face, which just proves my point.

This is going to be just awful.

I sit back on the bed while Frankie slithers off, making her way over to the tripod.

“Okay, ground rules. First off, this is about money, not feelings,” she announces. “Just think about all the yummy cash we’ll be making, and it’ll help your cause, I promise. Second, you need to sell it.” She sets up her video camera, peeking at Kyran. “Do you think pornstars actually like each other? No. They’re acting. We’re all aware that you two aren’t besties. Get over it.”

My eyes flit to Kyran, and his meet mine. His jaw is visibly tight, and I lift my brows at him, to which he rolls his eyes.

Yea, motherfucker. Calm down. This is just business.

“I’ll be blurring faces, so don’t worry about that,” Frankie goes on. “And as far as what we can do… nothing is off limits for me. I’m good with everything.”

Kyran and I continue to hold one another’s eyes, both refusing to back down, which is how it seems to always go with us.

Finally, he murmurs, to me, “Just don’t touch me if you want to keep breathing.”

“Aww, but how will I restrain myself??” I croon sarcastically while he seethes.

“Okay, then. And lastly…” Frankie ignores our boundless bickering as she double-checks the position of the camera before turning to us and smiling. “Let’s have fun!” She motions to the bed. “The view will be from there to there, so try not to leave the area. Avi, will you get the lights, please?”

Exhaling out my remaining hesitations, I get up and switch on the overhead lights, using the dimmer to get it low enough to set the mood, but also bright enough that the quality will work. Then I switch off the bedside lamp as Frankie turns on the ring light.

The whole time we’re messing with the lighting and Frankie is setting up to record, Kyran is just standing by the door, awkwardly shifting his weight like he hasn’t the slightest clue what to do with his body. Just seeing how tense he is reinforces how insufferable he’s most definitely going to be this entire time.

I wish he would do some drugs. Damn, he clearly needs it.

Getting things started, I kick off my shoes, then remove my jacket and tie.

“Kyran,” Frankie says his name, and his face jumps in her direction, as if she startled him out of some troublesome overthinking. She flicks her hand toward the bed. “Come now. We don’t have all night.”

He breathes roughly, tiptoeing closer. “This is fucked…”

“Get over it, superstar.” I unbutton my shirt. “It’s happening. Channel your horrendous attitude into at least acting like you’re fun.”

“I am fun.” He scowls, removing his headband and tossing it onto the floor. “But I honestly think taking my clothes off in front of you sounds like a waking nightmare.”

“Hm. Interesting.” I shrug out of my dress shirt.

His eyes do a very quick drop over my shirtless torso before coming back up to mine. Then he tugs his shirt over his head.

I’m not going to look at his body, because I already know it’s immaculately chiseled into exactly what you’d expect from a football player who spends exorbitant amounts of time working out. But I’m highly satisfied with the tiny glint of surprise I catch in his eyes when he sees how defined I am.

Maybe it’s a generally accepted stereotype that artsy emo nerds like myself don’t have six-packs and carefully sculpted pectorals… and that’s exactly why I enjoy working out as much as I do.

I like proving people wrong, and we all know how much I adore being different. So when the haters expect me to whip off my shirt and reveal a scrawny torso scattered with careless ink, but they instead find me ripped as hell, draped in intricate, artistic tattoos… I can’t help but feel smug.

That’s right, Number Nine. My body is bangin’ too.

“Scared yet?” I smirk at Kyran, to which he hits me with his signature scowl.

“If you keep running your mouth, there’s no way I’ll be able to get hard.”

Unbuckling my belt, I open my pants and leave them that way, tilting my head at him. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of, Ky. A lot of men suffer from erectile dysfunction. I mean, not men your age, but—”

“Shut the fuck up, Avi,” he growls, inching in closer to my face.

Frankie steps over to the bed, grinning. “Yes, this is great. Build the hostility… Fuel that hatred.”

Kyran’s eyes slink over to her, then back to me, and I witness him swallow. I can tell he doesn’t really know how we’re supposed to start this, and truthfully, neither do I. So I move away from him, putting Frankie in between us like a buffer. She takes the lead, running her hands up his chest, slowly, reaching for his face.

He’s visibly stiff, clearly nervous and trying to act like he’s not. But he allows Frankie to yank his mouth to hers, and they start kissing.

Alright… So I guess we’re off to the races.

Frankie shoves Kyran into a seated position on the bed, then straddles his lap, kissing him while slightly turning so the camera can capture as much as possible. Moving behind her, I kiss her neck and run my hands down her sides to her ass. Unfortunately, Kyran must have had the same idea, because his hands are already there, and I end up covering his with mine.

We both flinch, and I jerk my hands away fast while he rumbles into Frankie’s mouth, obviously wanting to complain about me touching him by accident. Thankfully, she doesn’t give him any leeway to do so, and I appreciate her for it.

She crawls over Kyran even more until he’s reclining on the bed while simultaneously kicking off his shoes. Kneeling behind her, I’m trying like hell to avoid his stupid long legs. I reach for her ass, cupping it in my hands and pushing her down on him, helping her grind on him.

Right off the bat, it’s weird, and annoying, being close to him like this while struggling not to touch him at all. The only thing in between us is Frankie, and hopefully she can absorb all of his hostility toward me, maybe even somehow subdue him into calming the fuck down a little.

Immediately, I notice how he submits to her. I would’ve assumed he’d be trying to regain control, but he doesn’t seem interested in that at all. He’s just lying back and letting her make out with him, his hands resting almost timidly on her waist. Eventually, she grabs his hands and shoves them onto her tits, at which point a little huff of a sound escapes him.

It’s kind of interesting. Maybe he’s just nervous because he’s hyper focused on the camera recording us, or maybe it’s because I’m here… But he seems unexpectedly shaky.

I know for a fact he’s been hooking up with girls since high school, but maybe I struck a nerve before with my taunting him earlier because it’s true. Maybe he really hasn’t done anything even remotely exciting in the bedroom, and now he’s just diving head-first into a threesome with his stepbrother and one of the most sexually adventurous girls I know.

Oh, boy… If that’s true, he’s in for it.

Leaning over Frankie’s back, I resume kissing her shoulders, wrapping her hair around my fist and pushing my crotch into her ass. I won’t lie, it’s a little strange to be doing this with my best friend, but I also happen to know how casual she is when it comes to hooking up. And if Bea and I could fool around and remain friends, then I have to hold out that the same can be said for Frankie and me.

My dick is growing, from the hormones in the air and the friction of Frankie’s ass writhing against it. And when I’m sure she can feel its rigidity jamming between her cheeks through my pants and the skimpy material of her costume, she lets out a breathy moan in between her rampant sucking of Kyran’s lips.

Gazing down, I catch him glaring up at me, shooting me with a fiery look that both locks me in unease and sets off a need inside me to continue fucking with him. It’s so easy to piss him off, it’s barely even a challenge. And while I know I should just leave him alone, I hate backing down, especially to preppy dickheads like him. If he can dish it out, then he needs to be able to take it.

So in that spirit, I allow my hand to accidentally slip off of Frankie’s hips and onto his.

This time, he whips his mouth away from hers and growls, “Stop.”

“Oops… My hand slipped.” I restrain my smirk while yanking Frankie’s head back and turning her face so I can kiss her.

I can feel him seething, but I focus on sucking her mouth, teasing her tongue while her hand moves to rub my dick over my pants. It feels good, and when my eyes subtly creep open, I catch sight of her doing the same to Kyran with her other hand.

With my left hand, I slip between her thighs from behind to touch her pussy. And I feel fingers. Kyran’s finger.

He tries to slap my hand away. So I slap his hand away.

“I was here first,” he grunts.

“Yea, but I’m better at it.”

“Boys…” Frankie huffs on my lips, then rolls out from in between us, flopping onto her back on the bed next to Kyran. “You can both finger me at the same time.”

“No fucking way,” he hisses.

I squint at him in frustration. And then we both notice that since she’s moved away, I’m kneeling over his thigh with our hands touching, and there’s no girl in the middle to keep us apart.

Kyran yanks his hand away from me, scooting back and whipping his leg, probably to make it seem less like I’m on top of him. But when he does, he knees me in the balls, and I groan in pain, cupping my nuts for dear life.

“Fuck you, dick!” I crumple onto my side. It wasn’t all that hard of a hit, but still. Sensitive area.

“Serves you right,” he breathes, propping himself up on his elbows. “I told you to stay away from me.”

“Yea, well… personal bubbles don’t really work in threesomes, dumbass.”

Straightening, I move over Frankie, who’s grinning up a storm like this is the funniest thing ever. I grab her by the thighs, hauling her closer while she squeals.

Delighted giggles flee her lips as I lower my face to her tits, kissing all over them, removing bits of her costume to expose them fully. My eyes shift, and I watch her rubbing Kyran’s crotch, reaching inside his pants. He still seems tense as fuck, but his eyes flutter shut when she starts stroking him from inside. Head tipping back, his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat when he swallows. And I can’t seem to take my eyes off the sight, even with Frankie’s perky handful of tits in my mouth.

Kyran’s lips are parted as little breaths leave them. My gaze slides over his chest while it moves up and down, the curves of his muscles looking so smooth and contoured… Complexion creamy and a little flushed.

Shaking myself out of it, I close my eyes and focus on what I’m doing, sucking Frankie’s nipple between my lips. Then I slip my fingers into the waistband of her shorts, swooping them down her legs and tossing them across the room.

Moving with the mood, I kiss a line down her stomach, pushing her legs apart and positioning my face in front of her pussy. I take in a breath to steady my racing pulse before extending my tongue to give her clit a nice lick. She purrs, so I do it again, licking and licking until I feel fingers by my face. My eyes crack open, watching her moving Kyran’s hand down to where I’m currently sinking my tongue inside her. And I have no idea what possesses me to do so, but I wrap my lips around one of his fingers for a quick suck before he yanks it away.

This time, I can’t help the devious chuckle rumbling in my chest.

“Fuck off, weirdo,” he snarls, rather breathlessly, I might add.

“Sorry… My tongue slipped.” I steady myself with a hand on his thigh, which, of course, he also jerks away from.

“Stop fucking touching me,” he snarls as Frankie pushes his fingers onto her clit.

He takes over and starts rubbing her, then stuffs two fingers inside her, causing her to gasp. My eyes are locked on the sight of Kyran’s long fingers pumping in and out while my mouth inches closer, attempting to maneuver around them in order to lick her clit. It’s difficult, and every now and again, my lips or tongue will touch his fingers, completely by accident.

“Don’t lick me, Avi,” Kyran threatens. “Or I’ll rip your tongue off.”

“Mmm… that’s it. Talk dirty to me,” I tease.

He makes it way too easy.

Kyran growls, his movements slowing. “I’m gonna fucking murder you.”

“Kyran…” Frankie hums calmly, trying to distract him again.

I peer up as she takes his jaw in her hand, tugging him into some more kissing. Licking and sucking on her pussy, I stare at their mouths while they move together, my tongue occasionally grazing Kyran’s fingers. But this time, he doesn’t say anything. He seems to be quivering, and it’s hypnotizing me again.

Those timid movements… It’s amazing how someone so brooding and vicious can turn so submissive. I think he’s way too tightly wound… in need of a thunderous release.

Stopping that train of thought, I force my focus to remain on Frankie’s pussy. Until I feel her pushing Kyran’s head down to join me.

It’s clear she wants us both to eat her out at the same time, but I don’t see how that will work for my stepbrother. Our mouths would be way too close together. Still, he allows her to move him, sinking his way down, to her tits first, but only for a second, until he’s joining me between her parted thighs.

Kyran peeks at me, watching while I suck on Frankie’s clit. Then I stop and inch away, lifting my brows at him. He looks hesitant, and combative, which surprises no one.

“Let’s see who eats better,” Frankie goads us with a grin. “A little healthy competition.”

I glance up at her and she winks. Clever little minx… She knows Kyran won’t be able to pass up a shot at proving he’s the best at something.

Still, he doesn’t seem determined. He’s clearly unsure, pausing to chew on his lower lip. And when our eyes meet, up close, I can really see that burning intensity in his irises as a woven hazel. Mossy green, swirled up with the light bronze, holds me still for a second, until he breaks the contact to ease his mouth onto Frankie’s pussy.

He licks at her slowly, nervously, captivating me with how utterly different he seems right now. Like he’s never really done this before, which can’t possibly be true. His tongue slides over her slit for just a second, then comes back up to her clit, where he flutters it tentatively.

Choosing to help him out a little, although I know it’s probably a death sentence, I wedge my face in and lap the slit of her pussy. Our jaws bump when I do, and he hums.

“Too close,” he breathes, and I roll my eyes.

“Fuck off.” I lick her harder.

This time, my tongue touches his lip, and he reaches for my throat, curling his hand around it to hold me back.

“Choke me, Daddy,” I taunt, smirking while he pins me with an icy look.

“Cut the shit, fuckface,” he snaps, letting go of me.

But our faces are so close together, the warmth of his breath dances on my lips. Sliding my tongue over my lower like a reflex catches his eyes. And for the briefest of split seconds, the orbs of green and gold fall to my mouth.

It’s nothing more than a flash, but still. It happened.

“I saw that,” I whisper in a mocking fashion. But I can’t deny that my voice is a little raspier than usual. Call it a symptom of this situation.

“Fuck you,” Kyran seethes, giving up on the eating to use his fingers instead.

He swipes his thumb over Frankie’s clit, then slides a slow digit inside her.

“I see your finger… and I raise you two.” I push two of mine inside with his.

Our hands are literally flush, palms together, fingering her pussy while our eyes remain locked, stubborn meets spiteful. Frankie is falling apart at the sensation, writhing against our joined hands while we war against one another, using her body as some kind of pawn in our aggressive, oddly sexual feud.

“She likes what I’m doing better,” he rumbles, inches from my face.

“You wish.” I use my other hand to reach into my pants and adjust my erection, because it’s confusingly stiff and aching right now.

“Don’t you dare jerk off in front of me.” His voice cracks subtly with his words, tickling something in the pit of my stomach…

Something very inconvenient that I don’t at all understand.

“I’ll jerk off whenever I damn well please,” I growl at him, fisting my cock.

“The fuck you will.” He reaches for my wrist, trying to pull it away, like he’s actually going to stop me from jerking my dick off. It’s insane.

But my hand is still around my cock, so it’s more like he’s just… moving it for me.

“You’re making it harder…” I squint at him, lips quirking.

“You’re such a fucking queer.” His chest is really heaving now, words coming out all hoarse and uneven.

Inching my face until the tips of our noses are almost touching, I whisper, “But you’re the one jerking my dick off right now.”

His jaw is set tight, ticking visibly. “Not my hand.”

“Might as well be.” I shrug.

Frankie’s legs stiffen as her pussy clenches on our fingers. But we’re too busy arguing to even notice. Kyran lets go of my wrist, and I rest my head on Frankie’s thigh, eyes dropping shut for a moment at the sensation of stroking my cock surrounded by the pulsing heat of all this tension.

I have no idea why this feels so good, but I can’t deny that it does. And when I reopen my eyes, I catch Kyran watching my hand move inside my pants.

“Are you hard?” I whisper, and they spring back up to mine.

“Fuck no,” he hisses.

I peek down at his pants. The material is doing nothing to hide his visible erection. “Liar.”

He covers it with his hand. “Don’t look at my cock, fucking pervert.”

“Why… is it small?” I bite my lip.

“No.” His gaze narrows, and he leans in closer. “It’s big.”

“Prove it,” I hum, shocking myself with those abrupt words.

What the fuck am I doing??

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

His voice is ragged as he palms himself over his pants, face all flushed, pink in his cheeks, pupils dilated. Our hands are slippery wet from Frankie’s arousal, palms sliding together while we work on her pussy, paying zero attention to her and just fully wrapped up in whatever this charged battle of aggression is that’s incinerating between us. It’s fucking crazy, but my head is all cloudy and I can’t even think.

“You’re so close to me, Kyran…” I speak in frayed breaths. “If I come, it’ll get all over you.”

“If you come on me, I’ll rip your dick off your body,” he growls.

God, something about this sparring is winding me up like a rubber band. I’m burning alive inside my skin, and heat is pouring off his body in waves.

At the feel of weight, my hazy gaze dips, and I find his leg slung over mine.

I don’t even think he notices he’s doing it. But now that I’m paying attention, I catch his hips moving, as if subtly chasing some kind of sensation he’s not getting because he, unlike me, isn’t jerking off.

And some strange, twisted thing in my brain wishes that he was.

I’m so fucked. This is all fucked…

“So you are scared…” I whisper to him, with my lashes fluttering.

He makes a low, rumbling noise, biting down on his lower lip. It thumps my balls in a heavy throb. My hips inch toward his…

But before I can get wherever it is I was trying to go, Frankie whines, then gasps out loud. “Oh my God, holy fuck, I’m coming!”

Her hand flies down, gripping onto both of our wrists at once, holding us for dear life as he comes all over our joined hands, mumbling, “I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m fucking coming…” On repeat.

Kyran’s mouth is so close to mine, it’s like I’m breathing his breaths; inhaling his exhales. I feel his lips shivering. I feel his pulse pumping like it’s my own.

It’s so intense that I think I could literally come myself at any moment.

But then Frankie releases our wrists, and melts into a sated puddle on the bed. And the second she does, Kyran pulls his fingers out of her, and wrenches himself away from me.

The spell breaks fast, snapping me back to reality. Blinking hard, I take my hand back, releasing my cock and sitting up slowly. Dazed, I clear my throat, watching Kyran as he jumps off the bed like it’s on fire, turning away from us.

My head cocks, wondering why he’s acting all fidgety and bizarre. I mean, I know that was intense, but he literally won’t even look at us.

Franke sits up on her elbows, grinning and patting my hair. “That was fucking wild.” Her head slants in Kyran’s direction. “You want me to get you boys off now?”

“No,” Kyran barks hoarsely, grabbing his shirt and pulling it over his head. “I’m gonna take off.”

Sloping my legs off the bed, I’m just shaking my head. I should’ve known he’d act like a whacko as soon as this was over. I stand up, glancing down at my erection, which is still rigid as hell and pushing against the front of my pants.

“You mean you don’t wanna give me a hand with this?” I tease him, and Frankie giggles.

Kyran turns, finally facing me, and of course he looks livid. But that’s not what I’m paying attention to.

I think there’s a wet spot on his pants…

My lips part, but nothing comes out. I’m just stunned into silence. When my eyes slide back up to his face, he’s beet red, grinding his teeth in a rage. His hands drop in an attempt to cover what is obviously the result of him coming in his pants, then he stomps toward the door.

“We never breathe a word of this,” he demands, shoulders visibly tight with his back to us. He reaches for the door, glancing at Frankie one last time. “The money…”

Frankie looks just as baffled as I feel as she nods and clears her throat. “Yea… I’ll Venmo you.”

He nods, turning away again and mumbling, “Cool. Thanks…”

Then he slinks out the door, and he’s gone.

Frankie and I share a look. And in synch, our faces slowly turn to the camera.

Well, alrighty then.