How Much We've Both Changed

In the dim haze of a fractured family bond, Alyssa (Jenna Gargles) picks up the phone, her estranged stepdad Darryl (JJ Graves) on the line, voice thick with ghosts from the past. They haven't uttered a word since her other parent's grim end. He confesses he was a wreck then, just now learning she's trans. Regret drips from his words—he should've been there, and now he craves a face-to-face. Suspicion coils in her gut, but a flicker of hope for that lost fatherly tie wins out; she agrees, heart pounding with wary longing. Next day, Darryl shows, all false sunshine and smothering hugs. His eyes rake over her stunning curves, lust simmering beneath the surface, unnoticed by her guarded gaze. She ushers him inside their shadowed home, sinking into tense chatter on the couch. She jabs at how he ghosted her when she was still cloaked as a boy, pre-transition. He dodges with excuses of mourning's black fog, but she smells the lie. Crocodile tears follow, his apology a slick performance of remorse. 'We've both twisted into something new,' he purrs, pushing to bury the hatchet and chase tomorrow. She yearns to heal the scar, though doubt and old wounds fester. Swift pivot—he probes too deep, too hungry, grilling her intimate secrets under the guise of reconnection, really sniffing for if she's free game. Flattery blinds her; she spills she's alone, no man in her bed. Emboldened, he presses for snapshots, raving how her sultry pose screams for the lens, his hunger sharpening like a blade in the noir night.