Excerpt from “The Ted Robbins Show” – Most-Streamed Episode of the Year
Ted Robbins: “So Eve, tell us—what was it like rebelling against your own foster father and Kimly Industries?”
Eve (calm, clear): “I’m glad I did. With the help of friends. Because now 5D soil is given freely to everyone. And that’s the point—we’re not here to profit, we’re here to shift.”
Brad: “As a former high-level operative at Kimly, I saw what they were doing. Kidnappings. Black ops. Unauthorized experiments on civilians. What Eve and the trio showed me was simple—we don’t need control. We need to evolve enough to trust each other. Community-based living works when corporations stop crossing the line.”
Ted: “So, to be clear—you’re advocating for this soil without any of Kimly’s tech behind it?”
Eve: “That’s right, Ted. And I believe others will keep discovering ways to heal the planet—without gatekeepers.”
Ted (leaning in): “Well, no offense—but it’d help if we knew how you did it. I’ve heard from sources that you, Eve, stole intelligence from Kimly, then spun a story around it.”
Eve: (unbothered) “The public can believe what they will. I’ve told the truth. Brad is telling the truth. And more people are stepping forward every day.”
Brad: “We’re not in this for money. That’s why the soil is free. As for how the trio got it—”
Eve: “That happened organically. And it’s not something you can bottle up as ‘intelligence.’”
Ted (smirking): “Sure makes for good entertainment. I’m hearing Lisa Snow is being courted for the rights to that story—and they even want her to star in it. Eve, you’ve turned down every offer. But Lisa…”
Eve: “Artimus and I are scientists. Some people—” (glances at the camera) “—have a flare for the theatrical.”
Brad: “Oh jeezus. If Lisa’s starring in a movie about this? Get ready, folks. There’ll be dance numbers, plot twists, maybe a talking bird.”
Eve: “Speaking of dance numbers… what about you, Brad? Why don’t you show us one of those ‘moves’ you and Lisa have been workshopping?”
Ted: “Yeah, Brad. Give the people what they want.”
Brad (sighs, stands): “Well, it goes something like this…”
(He launches into an exaggerated version of Lisa’s infamous dance, complete with awkward hip sways and finger guns. The studio erupts in laughter. Even Eve cracks a grin.)
Ted: “That’s going viral.”
Brad: “Don’t you dare clip that.”
Dinner at the Lakeside House
Artimus adjusted his glasses as he stepped toward the door, still looking buff as hell but with a new calm about him—like something in him had finally settled. He stood straighter now, grounded. Peaceful, but still dangerous in the best way.
We were all curious. Brad had been vague about the guy he was bringing to dinner—“someone I’m seeing” was all he’d said. And then they walked in, hand in hand.
The entire table lit up.
We loved Brad too much not to beam with him.
Jasper did not disappoint. He wore well-worn sandals, a shirt dotted with tiny rubber ducky buttons, and his arms were completely tatted. A rare, glorious combo.
“I brought mushroom cake,” Jasper said cheerfully, holding it up. “Also, if you’re into parlor tricks—I can bend spoons with my mind.”
Brad grinned. “Everyone needs a hobby nowadays.”
Artimus folded his arms, squinting with mock scrutiny. “Oh, I totally agree. I just wish yours wasn’t booty dancing.”
“I think I might take up pole dancing next,” Lisa said, sitting back with a sip of wine.
Artimus looked at Brad. “Don’t get any ideas, mate.”
Jasper slid into the moment like he’d always belonged. “No worries—we’re just taking up spooning together as a couple.”
Eve smiled. “That actually sounds pretty nice. Want a drink? This is Buzz’s citrus fire root cocktail.”
Buzz raised a brow. “Careful. It kicks.”
Cherry took a sip. “I like it. I’ve never tasted anything so good.”
Lisa nodded. “It’s from the 5D greenhouse.”
“I’m Lisa, by the way,” I added, extending a hand.
“Hi Lisa,” Jasper said, shaking it warmly.
“Okay, everyone,” Eve clapped her hands lightly. “Let’s sit down. Dinner’s ready.”
And just like that, the circle gathered. The fire was lit, laughter in the air, the lake shimmering behind us.
After the Party
Cherry was the last to leave, her arms wrapped around both Lisa and Eve before she disappeared into the night with a soft wave.
Now it was just the three of them, standing in the kitchen surrounded by half-finished drinks and empty plates.
Eve: “Our first dinner party. How do you think it went?”
Artimus (grabbing dishes): “How did it go? We’re the bomb on this block. I just wish people didn’t have to dodge paparazzi just to say goodbye.”
Eve: “We have Lisa to thank for that.”
Lisa: “I’ve already been punished for that, remember?”
Eve: (raising a brow) “Well I don’t like making love with paparazzi outside the window. Call it a natural consequence, little girl.”
They all started cleaning, shoulder to shoulder, casually slipping into rhythm like they’d lived together for years.
Artimus: “We should probably watch what we say to reporters. Right, Lisa? We’ve got rules. Rule one: no showing our bodies to the public. Rule two: no talking about our bodies to the public.”
Lisa: “She asked me to pose—I thought it was a joke! I didn’t know she was a reporter. And Buzz gave me that… whatever-root-thing. I was hallucinating butterflies. I’m tired of being on restriction.”
Eve stepped up behind her and gave her a sharp little pinch.
Lisa: “Ow!”
Eve: “You hush.” She wrapped her arms around her from behind, pressing her body close. “Artimus, what do you think—should we just give it to her so we can all be off restriction?”
Artimus (smirking, still scrubbing a plate): “I’ve been wanting to give it to her for two days now.”
Eve: “Screw the paparazzi.”
She spun Lisa around and kissed her—open-mouthed, hands exploring, fumbling with the intricate outfit Lisa had somehow squeezed herself into for the party.
Eve: (frustrated, tugging) “What the crap is this? How am I supposed to get you out of this?”
Artimus: “For god’s sake… what is this?” He leaned in for a better look, genuinely confused.
Lisa flushed, shaking her head, hands in the air.
Lisa: “I don’t know. It was hanging in the hallway. I thought it looked fun.”
Eve: (sighs, swats Lisa’s behind) “Upstairs. Now.”
She looked over at Artimus with a determined glint.
Eve: “I’ll bring the scissors.”
Artimus (deadpan, following): “This is why we can’t have nice things.”
Eve just shook her head, smiling as she grabbed the scissors off the counter.
Skylight Roots
The three of them were tangled together under the glass ceiling, limbs glowing in the starlight, skin still warm from the heat of their bodies.
Buzz’s “party favors” were lined up like tiny, mystical treasures in colored glass vials.
Lisa: “Wait—I want the green root.”
Artimus (reaching lazily): “You gonna smoke it or eat it?”
Lisa: “Might chew it this time.”
Artimus: “Bold move. I’ll try the red.”
Eve: “I’m just glad our community lets us be religious root people. Bless this freedom.” She picked up the blue vial. “I’ve got a pipe.”
Lisa: “Here’s a light.”
They passed things around, inhaling and settling back against the soft bedding, eyes drifting toward the massive skylight overhead.
Silence for a moment. Stars blinking above them.
Eve (softly): “So, Lis. Have you decided what you’re gonna do with yourself while Artimus and I are off doing our jam sessions during the day?”
Artimus: “Yeah, babe. I mean, I get to mess around in a lab all day, and Eve gets to be Doctor Sweetheart on every newsfeed. Feels like we kinda left you floating.”
Eve: “I’m doing it to keep us all safer. All of us. But yeah—it’s a lot.”
Lisa: “I get it. You’re both doing big, important stuff. It’s just… weird sometimes. Watching people swoon and drool while you’re trying to change the world.” She smiled faintly. “I guess I should feel lucky.”
Eve (arching a brow): “But you don’t?” She gave Lisa a side glance. “That’s not why you gave that cheeky pose to the reporter, is it?”
Lisa: “My butt’s been sore from your pinches ever since.” She smirked. “Funny how I never get to pinch you when you act like a sexy, smart, total princess.”
Artimus and Eve looked at each other—then in perfect sync:
Both: “Oh my god… I’m starting to feel sorry for you.”
Laughter.
Eve: “I don’t know, babe. I do whatever I want to your body. I kinda feel like it’s mine.”
Maybe we should ask Thera Bot why I do that?
Both Artimus and Lisa say
No!
She paused. Her voice softened, just slightly.
Eve: “Maybe I’m wrong. It’s just how I feel… But you never stop me, you know. You can. You can always say no.”
Artimus: “Yeah, Eve’s a pro at saying no. No confusion there.” He glanced at Lisa. “But if you want us to take you more seriously… we can. I think it starts with you taking yourself seriously.”
Eve: “Exactly. We’re not trying to put pressure on you, Lis. We’re just being honest. Me and Artimus—we’re serious about what we’re doing. And I don’t get that vibe from you. And that’s okay.”
Lisa: (blinking, dreamy and just a little high) “Wow… You guys are blowing my mind right now.”
They both chuckled.
Lisa: “Serious, huh?” She turned onto her back, watching the stars through the skylight. “I don’t know if I can actually do that.”
Eve: “You do you, babe.” She reached over, brushing Lisa’s hair back. “We’re just concerned. For you. ‘Cause we love you.”
A pause. The roots made the air feel soft, like time was swaying.
Eve: “And for the record… the pinching? That’s just because I can’t keep my hands off my sexy, beautiful girlfriend.”
She leaned in and kissed Lisa gently, one hand finding the curve of her hip and trailing down to her butt with a teasing caress.
Eve: “And I can’t keep my hands off either of you.”
Artimus pulled them both close, the blanket rustling as he wrapped his arms around them. They curled into each other, warm, safe, starlit.
A trio, tangled in love, laughter, and questions bigger than time.
Two Months Later
The makeup artist dabbed Lisa’s cheeks, murmuring something about lighting while she stared at her reflection on the set. The next scene was coming up—one where she’d play a younger version of herself, just before everything changed.
Strangely, it came easy. Channeling who she’d been at each moment. The fear. The power. The wildness of it all.
As she waited, her mind drifted back to the moment they signed off—or nearly didn’t—on telling their story.
Flashback: The Decision
Eve: “We need to think this through.”
Artimus: “No shit. The paparazzi finally got bored and now this?”
Eve: “Sit down.”
Lisa and Artimus sat across from her, the air tense.
Eve: “Are you sure you want to do this? Really? Don’t do it for the wrong reasons.”
Artimus: “Yeah, Lis—what is the reason?”
Lisa: (quiet at first) “I know you probably think I’m doing this because I’m bored. Or flattered. Or maybe because I’m reacting to all the serious attention you two get.”
She paused. Then:
Lisa: (louder now) “But I’m actually good at acting. That’s what the professionals say. And our story? It’s the best one out there! Why shouldn’t it be shared?!”
Eve stood and walked over to Artimus. They whispered, then—
Artimus: (nervous, loud) “We don’t like the idea of you kissing—god knows what else—with actors who are pretending to be us!”
Eve: “He’s right! I don’t like it. And I’m not signing off on it.”
She turned and stormed upstairs.
Lisa: “What, you too?” She looked at Artimus. “You don’t believe I take this seriously like you two?”
Artimus winced—his own words turned on him.
Artimus: (quietly) “Okay, love. I do take your acting seriously. But I’ve seen how stuff like this ruins people. Look at us—we’re fighting and we haven’t even agreed yet. I’ll sign it… if you get Eve to.”
He raised an eyebrow. “God help you.”
Upstairs
Eve lay on the bed, thumbing through a book she wasn’t really reading. Lisa stepped in quietly.
Eve “You don’t know how it feels unless you can imagine watching me kiss and touch someone else, over and over, for hours—just to get the scene right.”
Eve threw the script aside. “This whole thing is full of our sex life, Lisa. It’s not just acting—it’s us.”
Lisa moved closer.
Lisa: “I wouldn’t like it if it were you or Artimus either. Especially not you.”
Her voice dropped.
Lisa: “And since you put it that way… I’m going to decline the deal.”
Eve blinked.
Lisa: “You mean more to me than some project, no matter how much I believe in it. None of it’s worth you being hurt. That’s the only truth that matters. So yeah… it’s over.”
She turned to leave.
At the door, Eve stood up, voice soft behind her.
Eve: “Wait…”
On Set
Lisa nailed the scene—tight emotional control, clean transitions. It felt almost too easy now, slipping back into herself from two years ago. The camera cut, the crew clapped, and Brad was already stepping forward with a grin.
Brad: “Good going. You’re really good.”
Lisa: “Thanks.”
Brad: “Come on, you’ve got a break. Let’s get a sandwich.”
Lisa: “Cool.”
They walked off-set together, down a hallway lit with vintage film posters.
Brad: “You’ve heard of the Rat Pack, right?”
Lisa: “Yeah—just about all my costars.”
Brad: “Ha. Guess you got it like that.”
Lisa smiled, biting into her sandwich.
Brad: (lowering his voice) “Anyway… they want us—me and you—to come to a party.”
Lisa: “Yikes. I don’t like the sound of that.”
Brad: “I’ve been curious. These parties—they’re secret. And weird. But not Diddy-weird.”
Lisa: “Oh god, not like… back in the day Diddy.”
Brad: “No. This is different. They’re saying it’s about… time travel.”
Lisa stopped mid-bite.
Lisa: “Brad. There’s no such thing as time.”
Brad: “Okay, then—dimension travel.”
Lisa: (smirking) “That’s better.”
Brad: “They’re not saying we’ll do it. Just… hear about it. Share experiences.”
Lisa: “Well… that actually sounds kind of okay. I mean, we are making a show about it.”
Brad: “Exactly.”
Back at the Ranch
Artimus: (leaning on the counter) “Dimension travel? Among the thespians??”
Eve: (dropping a dish towel) “I swear to god, you’re like a teenager. Now it’s parties? Mystery guests? Then what—a quick jump into another dimension for dessert?”
She turned sharply to Artimus.
Eve: “You know we can’t take another one of Lisa’s disappearing acts.”
Artimus: (sighing, serious) “Listen, loves. We all care a out each other. That’s all.”
Eve: “Then tell her no. Because I mean it this time—the answer is no.”
Later That Evening
Eve came out of the bathroom in a bath towel, not saying much, not even looking at Lisa. Lisa passed her on the way in—her hair freshly dyed jet black, her body carved to perfection by weeks of industry prep, tattoos placed with expert precision. When she returned to the room, she was in sexy briefs, eyes on her game controller.
Eve: “My feet hurt. I’ve been walking all day.”
Lisa didn’t hesitate. She paused the game and knelt at the edge of the couch, gently rubbing Eve’s feet.
Eve: “Oh… thanks, hon.”
Artimus came out next, hair redone with golden streaks, body looking even more sculpted than before. He stretched and flopped down beside them.
Eve: “I’ve got to get hair and wardrobe done for our next shoot. We’re flying out this weekend. Europe.”
Just then, the house robot glided in.
Robot: “Your dishes are washed and dried. Would you like anything else?”
Lisa: “No, we’re good. Thanks though.”
Artimus: “So… we lighting up tonight? ‘Cause I think there’s some stuff we need to talk about.”
Eve: “What do you mean? Have sex? Or is this another moment where the star in the room is too good for us?”
Artimus: “What is this, a competition between you two?”
Eve: “Maybe the industry told her what tattoos to get. Remember when we were gonna get our names on her body?”
Artimus: “Come on. We all look amazing. That’s what money can buy. But Eve—are you saying you don’t feel sexy anymore? Look at us. You two for TV, and me—well, I’m still just for your eyes only, yeah?”
Long pause.
Eve: “I do like your hair. It’s awesome, actually. And your tattoos… they lie just right.”
Artimus: “That’s better. Lisa?”
Lisa: “You’re more beautiful now than ever. And yeah, I see you’ve been working out. Your hair’s gorgeous. You look… powerful.”
Artimus: “Okay, okay. What about me?”
Eve: “You haven’t been professionally carved like us, but let’s feel those abs—yep, still stupendous.”
Artimus: “Hey—what about my butt? No one’s saying anything about my butt.”
Lisa and Eve smirked.
Lisa: “You’ve got a nice butt.”
Eve: “And you know it.”
Lisa got up and grabbed some root from the shelf. She chewed it slowly.
Lisa: “Fame sucks the big one. I haven’t seen my bird in forever. Everyone adoring me, spoiling me… it doesn’t feel right.”
She took a hit of smoke.
Eve: (grabbing the pipe) “I didn’t say anything before because I knew how you two would react, but I’ve been getting hit on constantly. One of the execs—he was inappropriate.”
Lisa and Artimus snapped to attention.
Eve: “Put his hands on me.”
She inhaled.
Eve: “Of course I punched him.”
Artimus: “Jesus. I think I’m having a panic attack.”
Lisa: “You should’ve told us. We’re your friends.”
Artimus took a hit of root, still holding his chest.
Eve: “I didn’t want to tell Artimus. He’d actually hurt someone. And you…” (she looked at Lisa) “I couldn’t stop thinking about someone putting their hands on you.”
Lisa: “Oh god. What happened to us? We’re all spoiled brats. Except you, Artimus.”
Artimus: “Thanks,” he muttered, trying to breathe evenly.
Lisa: “When I’m on set, shooting those scenes… it’s humiliating sometimes. The way they want to frame everything—get the light just right on your private parts. I never thought I could feel so exposed.”
Eve: “Why didn’t you tell me, brat?”
Lisa: “Because you’d say I told you so.”
Eve: (sighing) “Maybe we should call ourselves the Brat Pack.”
Artimus: “Actually… now’s a good time. Me and Buzz have been working on something. A side project.”
Eve and Lisa turned to him.
Artimus: “We think we’ve figured out how to travel dimensionally—without the chaos of the last jump. We’d need the crystalline grid, of course. But the method works with our trio frequency.”
He paused.
Artimus: “Brad knows about it too. That’s why he wanted Lisa to go to that party—to feel out what other people are doing.”
Silence. Eve and Lisa just stared at him.
Eve: “I mean… maybe for a vacation?”
Lisa: “Yeah. When’s the last time we had one of those?”
Artimus: “Exactly.” (He mimed shooting his brain with finger guns.)
Eve: “What about your series?”
Lisa: “Legally I don’t think I can leave… but I might be able to get some time off. I just don’t feel connected lately.”
Eve: “Maybe that’s because we’re addicted to this root. I mean, what’s it doing to our frequency?”
Artimus: “Probably nothing good.”
Lisa: “Sex used to help… remember? Used to sync us.”
Artimus: “That is true.”
Eve: (sinking back into the couch) “You guys… I feel so high.”
Lisa: (closing her eyes) “Me too.”
Scene: That’s a Wrap
Lisa lay on set, barely covered, barely present. The scene had been rewritten again—more exposure, more “vulnerability,” less truth. She stared past the camera, dissociating, waiting for it to be over.
That’s when Eve walked in.
Sunglasses on. Blazer sharp. A quiet storm cutting through the noise.
She ignored the assistant who moved to intercept her, eyes locked on Lisa.
She stepped onto the stage like it belonged to her.
Then she reached out a hand.
Eve: “Do you wanna go?”
Lisa blinked, like she was waking up. Her voice cracked.
Lisa: “Yes.”
Eve helped her sit up, then helped her to her feet, wrapping a nearby robe around her.
Gasps. Chaos.
Director: “You can’t go! She’s under contract!”
Eve: (turning, sharp) “Hey! Can’t you see she’s barely conscious? What have you been slipping her for these scenes, huh?”
Producer: “You have no authority here.”
Eve: “Your name’s Lee, right?”
Lee: “Yeah.”
Eve: (grabbing the script from his chair) “Well, Lee—I’m overriding your authority. This script? A pack of lies.”
Security moved in. Just as Brad stormed onto the set.
Brad: “Hold up, hold up! Nobody’s going anywhere.”
He stepped between the guards and Eve, arms outstretched, commanding attention.
Then Artimus walked in from the other side of the set holding a small baggie.
Artimus: “Hmmm… what do we have here? This Beta root? Against your own policy, isn’t it?”
Eve: “That’s right. Shall I read it to you?”
Phones came out. Cameras turned on. The crew watched, wide-eyed.
Security Guy #1: “We’ve got orders to escort—”
Artimus: “Yeah? Well, I’ve got orders too.”
He elbowed the guy in the ribs, spun him around, and kicked him clean in the rear. Brad followed suit with the other one, knocking the headset off his ear and striking a dramatic pose for the nearest phone camera.
Lee: (red-faced) “Alright! Fine. Just go! That’s a wrap! My lawyers will call your lawyers!”
Eve: (pulling off her glasses) “That may take a while.”
She glanced at Artimus.
Brad: (posing with two peace signs) “Smile for freedom, baby.”
Lisa looked around at the scene—her friends, the blown-up set, the freed chaos—and finally exhaled.
Scene: After the Fire
Back at the house, everything was too quiet. Lisa moved through the bedroom like a ghost, opened a drawer, and slipped a small stash of root into her pocket.
Behind her, Eve entered the room. Slow. Watching.
Eve: “Stop right there.”
Lisa froze.
Eve: “Give it to me… now.”
Lisa didn’t move.
Eve: “Look at me, Lisa.”
Lisa slowly turned, eyes unreadable.
Eve: “If you don’t give it to me now, I will take you down Lisa and get it even if we have to roll all over this floor . And guess what, birdie. We’ll both find out who’s more powerful.”
Lisa’s face didn’t change, but something in her body stilled—like part of her maybe wanted to find out.
Then Artimus walked in. Calm. Casually stepping between them like he was reaching for a glass of water.
Artimus: “What’s that you’ve got in your pocket, hon?”
Lisa hesitated, then sighed and handed it over.
Eve didn’t miss a beat.
Eve: “You’re taking a shower. After I check the bathroom for stashes. And you’re gonna wash all that fucking grime off of you.”
Lisa nodded—barely.
Eve: (to Artimus, steady) “Then… withdrawals, baby. We’re here for the duration.”
Artimus met her gaze. No hesitation.
Artimus: “Yeah. We’re not going anywhere.”
Scene: Withdrawal
The nights were long. Harsh. The kind no one ever shows in movies.
Eve: “It’s all right, hon. I got you. Just try to keep this down—it’ll help.”
Lisa was drenched in sweat, her skin pale, her breath ragged. Eve pressed a cool compress to her forehead and handed her a small cup of meds.
Lisa: “Oh shit—I’m gonna barf. Or worse.”
Eve: “Artimus! Another towel—fast.”
Eve caught Lisa’s arm just in time, steadying her.
Eve: “We’ll try for the bathroom. Let me know if you can’t make it.”
Lisa staggered toward the door.
Eve: “I’ve got this,” she said to Artimus without looking back.
Artimus stayed in the hallway, listening as the bathroom door clicked shut.
From inside:
Eve: “Here, let’s wipe you off. It’s okay. You’re okay.”
The Next Day
The house was still. Peaceful. Lisa sat propped up in bed, eyes sunken but clearer.
Eve: “Okay, just try this broth. You’re looking better. The worst is over.”
Lisa: (softly) “What did I do to deserve a nurse like you?”
Eve: “You would’ve done the same for me.”
Lisa: (quiet, ashamed) “How did I get so far away from who I am?”
Eve: “It happens. But it’s over now. That’s what matters.”
Artimus came in, hair a little messy, holding a warm cup of tea in one hand.
Artimus: “It’s good to see the real you, sweet cakes.”
Lisa let out a weak laugh. Eve smiled.
The three of them leaned in, arms wrapping around one another. A quiet, shared breath.
No roots. No cameras. No pretending.
Just them.
Together.
Scene: Team Meeting
The trio gathered around the kitchen island with Buzz and Brad. Sunlight streamed through the glass ceiling, casting bright angles across their faces. The energy was open but uncertain.
Artimus: “So… if we can get our frequency high enough, it should work.”
Buzz: “The problem is… your backs aren’t against the wall anymore. You’re not fighting for your lives. That kind of pressure—it creates a stronger charge.”
Brad: “He’s right. I don’t think it’ll work the way it did before.”
Eve: (incredulous) “Gee, guys, what are you saying? We have to be running for our lives to shift dimensions?”
Lisa: (firmly) “No. We’re not doing that anymore. That mindset—that suffering equals progress—it’s not right. Humans should be able to evolve without pain. If that’s the requirement, I’m not on board.”
Eve: “Same. Fully same.”
Artimus: (nodding) “I’m with them. But I do believe there’s another way. We just haven’t found it yet.”
Buzz: (hesitant) “I don’t wanna sound harsh here… but right now it’s like rubbing three sticks together. You want fire, but there’s no heat.”
Eve: “Oh god.”
Brad: “Okay, but we’ve talked about this—use the sounds and the beats we mapped out. Stay aligned with the crystal grid, and just see what happens. Me and Buzz can monitor your intensity levels.”
Eve: “You want cameras too, don’t you?”
Lisa: “No. Done with that. No cameras.”
Brad: “Come on, don’t be so condescending. Like Buzz and I have nothing better to do.”
Artimus: (gently) “Sorry. We’ve just been through… something. Still processing.”
There was a pause.
Buzz turned to Lisa, his eyes soft but steady.
Buzz: “Listen, lady. You’re human like the rest of us. And you’re superhuman—like the rest of us, too.”
Lisa couldn’t help it—she smiled.
Eve caught the look and smiled too. The room softened.
Scene: The Memory Beneath Stillness
The room was quiet.
Eve sat curled on the couch, Lisa resting across her lap. One of Eve’s hands stroked softly over Lisa’s chest, the other across her bare stomach. At the other end, Artimus was massaging Lisa’s feet with quiet precision, his focus present but relaxed.
No one spoke for a long time.
Then—
Eve: “Was I thriving?”
She said it softly, as if afraid the question might vanish before it finished.
Eve: “I mean… it feels like all I’ve ever done is survive. I was finally free. But was I really thriving?”
Artimus: (gentle) “You’d have to ask your nervous system that, love. Sometimes what it looks like outside… doesn’t match what’s happening inside.”
Lisa: “I think I threw a wrench in your thriving.”
A pause. Then—
Lisa: “But maybe not really. Maybe I gave you both what you actually wanted.”
Artimus: (smiling) “What’s that?”
Lisa: “Funny chaos.”
They all chuckled.
Lisa: “I’ve been thinking about what healed me from the root. Was it the medicine? Your hands? Your whispers in the dark?”
Artimus: “It was all of it.”
Lisa: “But what really did it… I finally got to be carried. By both of you. That’s what I wanted, I think. No—I know that’s what I wanted.”
Eve brushed a thumb gently beneath Lisa’s ribs.
Eve: “And what did I want?”
She paused, considering.
Eve: “I guess I wanted to play the badass. Be untouchable.”
Artimus: “And me? I liked being the strong one. The overseer.”
Eve: “Roles. Just roles.”
She looked up toward the ceiling.
Eve: “Did you ever wonder what we were before all this? If we knew each other… before we landed here?”
Artimus: “I remember.”
Lisa turned her head, eyes wide.
Lisa: “You do?”
Artimus: “Yeah. I remember wanting to come here. No joke. And I remember not wanting to come alone.”
Lisa: “Maybe that’s why you’re so calm. So cool all the time.”
Artimus: “One part of me is. The other part just loves science.”
Lisa: “I think I remember something too. Us making a promise to meet. No matter what.”
Eve: (quietly) “Wait. Are you saying… I chose my foster father?”
A silence passed through them.
Eve: “I do remember choosing my mother. If these memories are real.”
Lisa: “This place… this house, this night… it’s affecting us again.”
She paused, eyes closing halfway.
Lisa: “Oh boy. Here we go.”
Eve: (smirking) “Are you guys feeling… horny right now?”
Artimus: “I wasn’t gonna say it.”
Eve: “Lisa?”
Lisa: (with a groan) “Can you just… move your hand a little lower?”
They laughed, but not for long. Because the current was rising.
There was no slow burn this time—just a sudden, electric hunger. The kind born not of lust, but of truth, remembrance, and relief. The need to rejoin. To feel whole.
Hands moved. Breathing quickened. They whispered to each other:
Lisa: “Are you sure there are no cameras?”
Eve: “Swear it.”
Artimus: “Nothing but us.”
Their bodies met like sound through water—fast, then slow, then faster again. Lips and fingers and breath creating a rhythm older than speech. Not just sex, but the unlocking of memory. The kind of lovemaking that bends frequency and sends signals through timelines.
They went somewhere they hadn’t before.
Not just together—but beyond themselves.
And when it was over, everything was different.
Not because of what they did—but because of who they became inside it.
Scene: Crossing Through
– EARLY MORNING
Artimus rose from the bed, the morning light soft against his skin. A white sheet draped over his frame like something half-sacred, half-comic. He didn’t speak.
He simply walked toward the door, barefoot, pausing before he opened it—looking back at Lisa and Eve.
No words were needed.
There may be another world on the other side of that door.
Lisa followed, her steps quiet but certain.
Eve hesitated.
Lisa turned and took her hand, her eyes gentle.
LISA
It’s different this time.
Eve nodded. She believed her.
The trio opened the door—together.
EXT. STREET – UNKNOWN TIME
They stepped out into a town. Not theirs. Not now.
Their clothes had changed—modern but softened, slightly outdated. The house behind them was gone.
EVE
(gasping)
Oh my god…
This is the town I was born in.
(looking around)
It looks like… the past.
People strolled by—carrying newspapers, sipping from styrofoam cups, chatting about the price of gas and the mayor’s speech.
Artimus approached a man at a newsstand.
ARTIMUS
Excuse me—what year is it?
The man gave him a curious look.
MAN
It’s 2008. Why?
Before they could react, another man brushed past Eve—pressing a folded note into her hand without a word.
Eve opened it.
Hacienda Inn – Room 244
Meet Pearl, your guide.
30 minutes.
LISA
We’ve got to find the Hacienda.
EVE
I know where it is.
LISA
(softly)
Lead the way.
Scene: Room 422
The hallway of the Hacienda Inn was bathed in golden light. Room 422 felt like it had always been there—waiting.
Eve opened the door alone.
Inside, she found a small garden patio, open to the sky. An older woman with radiant eyes sat near a pond, scattering breadcrumbs to a group of ducks.
She turned with a knowing smile.
Pearl: “There she is. Come, sit.”
Eve: “Are you Pearl?”
Pearl: “That’s right. And you must be Eve.”
Eve nodded slowly and sat beside her.
Eve: “You’re here to guide us?”
Pearl: “To guide you, Eve.”
Eve: “Why me? Why this town?”
Pearl: “Because it’s yours. It’s the frequency you most understand. And because, for all intents and purposes… you and your friends are Time Travelers. Or as Lisa likes to say—dimension jumpers.”
Eve: “What’s our purpose?”
Pearl: (smiling gently) “What do you want it to be?”
Eve hesitated. The question was vast.
Eve: “Our choice would be to do good. And no harm.”
Pearl: “Ah—the doctor’s oath. Do no harm. Do good if you can.”
She leaned forward slightly.
Pearl: “So… would you rather be a doctor or a gardener here?”
Eve: “Can I be both?”
Pearl: (eyes twinkling) “Good answer. Decide what seed truly needs to be planted. Comfort will always come—it’s who you are.”
Eve: “Are we changing our reality?”
Pearl: (interrupting gently) “No, no, no. That’s in the movies. You’re not changing a timeline, you’re influencing a field. What you plant ripples—across dimensions, across time, across lives.”
Eve: “Because we’re all connected.”
Pearl: “That’s right. Even here. Even now.”
A beat passed.
Eve: “Will I see myself here?”
Pearl: (with a bright laugh) “My goodness. Yes, probably. But she won’t recognize you. Be careful, love. Things can get… tricky. You’re putting out energy. Make sure it’s what you want.”
Pearl stood up, brushing crumbs from her hands.
Pearl: “Well, I have to go now, girly.”
She reached out, holding Eve’s hands briefly in hers.
Then she turned and walked through a door in the wall that hadn’t been there before.
And when Eve looked again—it was gone.
Scene: Diner of Echoes
The trio sat in a small booth by the window of a quiet diner—the kind with warm pie, scratched-up menus, and a jukebox that still took coins. Eve stirred a mug of tea she hadn’t touched.
Lisa: “So you know this area. You know the time… because you lived it.”
She looked at Eve carefully.
Lisa: “What good can we even do here?”
Artimus: (softly) “Maybe you can do yourself some good. Or… is that too tricky?”
Lisa reached across the table and took Eve’s hands in hers, gently, grounding her.
Lisa: “What is it? You can tell us. We’re your friends. You can trust us.”
Eve didn’t look up at first. Her eyes flicked across the diner like someone watching for ghosts.
Eve: (quietly) “I wasn’t treated well… as a child.”
A pause.
Eve: “If I’m ten here… that’s the year I was terrorized. By my stepfather.”
The table went still.
Eve: “My mom sent me away. Said it was for the best—for the family. But it was really just to get me out of his sight. She thought… maybe I was the problem.”
Lisa’s jaw clenched.
Lisa: “Eve… this is your chance. I mean—who doesn’t dream of going back and stopping the hurt? You could protect her. You.”
Eve: “Pearl said… plant seeds. The right energy. The energy you really want.”
Artimus: (gently) “What did he do?”
Eve’s whole posture changed. Her shoulders folded in. Her breath went shallow.
Eve: “He would punish me. Beat me. Threaten me.”
She looked up finally, eyes wet, voice rising.
Eve: “You don’t want to see what he did. It would be traumatic all over again.”
Her voice cracked. Her pupils dilated slightly, a trapped animal surfacing from long memory.
Lisa squeezed her hands tighter.
Lisa: “Okay. Okay. We won’t rush this. But Eve…”
She took a breath.
Lisa: “There’s really nothing to think about. We find your ten-year-old self. We protect her. That’s it.”
Artimus: (watching Eve carefully) “Are you up for this?”
Eve shook her head. Then stopped. Closed her eyes.
Eve: (whispering) “I don’t know.”
And in that quiet diner, a decision was already beginning to bloom—beneath the pain, beneath the fear.
Because somewhere nearby… a girl was waiting to be saved.
By herself.
And the people who loved her now.
Scene: The House That Held the Hurt
They stood at the edge of the lawn, the air thick with memory.
Eve: (voice low, trembling)
“That’s the house. You don’t want to go in there.”
Artimus: (squinting)
“Wait… we can’t. Our bodies—look at us. We’ve become… light. Just frequency.”
Lisa: (focused)
“We can still be the energy Eve needs. That’s what this is. That’s why we’re here.”
Eve: (to Artimus)
“No. You can’t go in. You’ll only feed his rage.”
Lisa: (to Eve)
“Are you sure? Can you still plant something good in there?”
Eve hesitated, her jaw tight. Then slowly nodded.
Eve: “Yes. I think I can.”
Lisa: “Okay. Artimus, you stay here—for now.”
Artimus: (gently)
“Eve… I’ll be right here if you need to come out.”
Eve: “Okay.”
Lisa and Eve crossed the threshold, the house pressing inward with the weight of old pain. Inside, the air was dim, suspended like a held breath.
In the living room, they saw her—ten-year-old Eve, sitting at a desk, bent over her homework.
Eve: (quietly)
“Mom’s not here…”
A door creaked. The stepfather entered. Drunk. The danger poured off of him like heat.
Stepfather:
“Where’s your mom?”
Young Eve:
“I don’t know.”
Stepfather:
“Your damn mother’s gonna get it when she gets home.”
Young Eve:
“She’s probably just at the store. Getting food for all of us.”
Stepfather: (angry)
“Hey, are you talking back to me?”
He lunged, grabbing her arm. She yanked it free.
The younger brother appeared in the doorway.
Young Eve: (sharp, protective)
“Go to your room. Shut the door.”
Stepfather: (yelling)
“You heard her! Get in your room!”
He turned back to Eve, now red-faced and seething.
Stepfather:
“You think you run this house, huh? Got everybody thinking you’re so smart. So where’s your smarts now? Where’s she at?!”
Young Eve:
“I don’t know.”
Stepfather:
“Then you’re gettin’ the belt.”
He grabbed her. Pulled her over his knee. Yanked off his belt. Lifted her dress.
CRACK.
Lisa moved—her frequency passing through the air like breath. She dropped to her knees beside young Eve, unseen but felt.
Lisa: (whispering, steady)
“I’m right here. You’re not bad. I love you.”
CRACK.
Lisa:
“You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s only going to hurt real bad… and then it’s going to be over. I swear.”
CRACK.
Lisa:
“I’m right here with you. You have nothing to be ashamed of. I know it hurts, honey… but it’s going to stop. You’re going to be okay.”
Young Eve screamed. Cried. The floor soaked in her fear.
Outside the memory—adult Eve collapsed to the ground, sobbing. Shaking. Lost.
Artimus couldn’t hold back. He burst through the frequency field and dropped beside her, scooping her into his arms like she was made of glass and thunder.
Artimus:
“It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’m right here.”
Inside the house, the stepfather suddenly stopped. Staggered. The air around him shifted. Something unseen pressed in—an invisible wall of love he could not touch or understand. He dropped the belt, confused, and stormed out the door.
Young Eve crawled away. Ran to her bedroom. Slammed the door.
Lisa turned to Artimus.
Lisa:
“Stay with her.”
She moved through the house—energy, presence, grace. Through the hallway and into the bedroom, where ten-year-old Eve huddled in the corner.
Lisa didn’t speak at first. She just sat. Let the girl feel her presence. Then, quietly:
Lisa:
“You’re loved, baby. You’re so loved.”
The little girl didn’t move, but her trembling slowed.
Lisa:
“Your mommy loves you. She told me. She knows you’re a good girl.”
Tears welled in young Eve’s eyes.
Lisa:
“You are so smart. And brave. And beautiful. You’ll never be hit like that again. Not like that.”
The child finally looked up—just for a second—and for the first time, didn’t feel alone.
In the hallway, adult Eve stood. Her face streaked with tears. She walked into the bedroom and sat on the other side of the bed, across from her younger self.
Eve: (barely breathing)
“You’re loved, baby. You are. I’m here now. I’ll never leave again.”
She reached out—and although the child couldn’t see her… her shoulders relaxed. Just slightly.
Lisa turned. Artimus entered quietly behind her.
And in that small bedroom, past and present merged—not in fire, not in spectacle—but in the soft, golden light of being witnessed.
The three of them circled around that moment.
And held the girl who would one day become Eve.
Together.
Scene: Return and Release
The trio had spent what felt like a week shifting the energy of Eve’s past—visiting old parks, school steps, grocery aisles—leaving behind resonance, not regret.
Finally, they knew: it was time.
Pearl appeared at the edge of town, leaning on a fence post like she’d always been there. She guided them back, a shimmer through the veil—and in the next breath, they were home.
The sun hadn’t moved.
No real time had passed.
The house felt warmer, softer. Like it knew where they’d been.
They spent the afternoon in silence, all three processing.
Lisa pulled Eve toward her.
Lisa: “Come here.”
Eve laid down across her lap, her face turned upward. Lisa caressed her hair, her cheek, her ribs—slower than ever before. Her touch was soaked in love. A love so deep it almost hurt.
Artimus came over quietly with a bowl of fruit and set it beside them. Then, without a word, he kissed Eve’s forehead.
It had been about Eve this week. Entirely. Willingly.
Eve: (eyes fluttering open)
“You guys seem… different.”
Lisa: “What do you mean?”
Eve: “I mean you’re being so nice. So nurturing.”
Lisa: (softly)
“It’s like… you’re tattooed on our hearts now. Forever.”
Eve: (half-laughs)
“Because my stepfather spanked me with a belt?”
Lisa: (shaking her head)
“Spanking doesn’t begin to cover it.”
Artimus: “No. Not at all.”
Eve looked up at them. Her eyes glistened—but they didn’t fall.
Eve: “Oh my. My heart… is so held by you both. It almost hurts.”
Lisa leaned down and kissed her cheek.
Eve: “This doesn’t mean we can’t, you know… be playful anymore, right? You guys are being so careful around me.”
Artimus: “I’m sorry. It just… doesn’t seem right anymore. Not the same way.”
Lisa: “Yeah, I mean—there are things I could never do to you now that you always seem to do to me.”
Artimus: “And me… sometimes.”
Eve: (grinning)
“Oh, you mean when I swat your butt or pinch you? Yeah—sorry, that’s still my jam. Never gonna change. Like Artimus doing that thing with his tongue—”
Artimus: “All right, all right—”
Eve: (teasing)
“Lisa, is that what this is about? You trying to guilt me out of something that brings me joy?”
Artimus: “Okay. I’ll say it. What about… us doing it… to you?”
Eve: (mock gasping)
“Oh my god. You guys can’t even say the words.”
Lisa: (quiet)
“It’s difficult. You have no idea.”
Eve: “Okay, well, I do. And I learned something from the therapy bot, so listen up.”
She sat up, clearing her throat dramatically.
Eve:
“I don’t feel traumatized when you two “spank”or anything else you do back there to “my butt.”
(Pause)
“So take that, you two.
Artimus let out a massive, exaggerated sigh of relief.
Artimus: “I feel seen.”
Lisa: “Doin’ good.”
Artimus: “I feel… relief “
Lisa: “And I feel relief”
Eve: (rising with a stretch)
“Okay. I’m glad we got that cleared up. Because honestly? That conversation was exhausting.”
Lisa: “Where are you going?”
Eve: “The bedroom. Where else?”
She paused at the doorway and turned back, hand on the frame.
Eve: “Oh—and by the way… you know its my birthday coming up. I was thinking… birthday bash.
Artimus: “Thank the angels in heaven.”
Lisa: (grinning)
“I think… we were the angels.”
Lisa and Artimus casually walk towards the bedroom pinching each other.
Artimus. (Almost crying) I don’t think I can you know.
Lisa. It’s okay. Me neither. Listen I got your back. We can all go slow.
Artimus. Yeah but you heard her. She’s like over it. How can she….
Lisa. Listen. She decided like me some time ago that she’s moving on with living life no matter what comes. That’s how we roll now. No lingering too long. Come on give me a hug
They hug deeply.
Artimus. Okay thanks.
Chapter One: The Frequency of Joy
The party was alive.
Music pulsed from hidden speakers tucked into the trees. Warm lights stretched across the lawn like constellations pulled from the sky. Laughter rang out in waves, echoing off the side of the house. The air smelled of spiced citrus, burning firewood, and the soft ozone tang of clean energy.
Eve’s birthday had become the event of the year.
Friends, celebrities, freedom-seekers, and curious onlookers flowed together in the yard. Some danced barefoot in the grass. Others lounged on blankets under the stars, sipping fizzy, bio-tuned drinks or nibbling from platters that seemed to refill themselves. It was organized chaos—the kind that made people feel like they belonged to something bigger than themselves.
In the center of it all stood the trio.
Lisa, radiant in a sleek black jumpsuit that shimmered with every move. Artimus, broad-shouldered, smiling behind dark glasses as if he could see frequencies in every beat. And Eve—calm, luminous, wrapped in deep green with a touch of gold along her neckline. She wasn’t performing. She wasn’t guarding. She was just… here.
The DJ dropped something new. A song with a beat so infectious it made heads turn before anyone even realized they were swaying.
Lisa’s eyes lit up. Without hesitation, she grabbed Cherry by the wrist.
Lisa: “Come on. You owe me a dance.”
Cherry laughed, stumbling out of her seat, nearly spilling her drink as Lisa dragged her into the center of the crowd. Artimus didn’t get a choice—Lisa snapped her fingers at him and pointed, grinning.
Lisa: “You too, science boy.”
He shook his head and followed with mock reluctance, unbuttoning the top of his shirt as he went.
They danced.
The kind of dancing that wasn’t polished or performative—just real. Wild. Lisa moved like a current. Cherry let herself laugh and twirl. Artimus did his usual lowkey body rolls, earning whistles from a few younger guests.
Then the next track hit—something primal, deep, and bright.
Lisa turned. Her eyes found Eve.
Lisa: “You’re not getting out of this.”
Eve raised an eyebrow, but she was already smiling.
Eve: “You’re impossible.”
Lisa: “And you love it.”
Lisa reached out a hand. Eve took it.
The crowd parted to let her through. The air shifted. Eve stepped into the beat like she had always belonged there. She didn’t mimic Lisa—she moved her own way. Subtle, deliberate, pulsing. She started to bump with her hips, echoing Lisa’s rhythm with a touch of smirk.
Then they pulled in Brad, who did an exaggerated shimmy that made everyone burst into laughter. Artimus leaned into the absurdity and added a spin so theatrical it nearly knocked over a lantern.
The dance floor erupted.
Phones went up. Cheers surrounded them. But in the middle of the circle, it was just them—glowing, sweating, laughing. Four people who had risked everything for this moment. No world-saving. No politics. No danger.
Just joy.
Just now.
Scene: Mellow Yellow
Lisa and Sara sat near the firepit, the music winding down, laughter thinning to a buzz. Party lights flickered gently around them like floating stars.
Sara: (hugging her warmly)
“We miss you so much on set, Lisa. Honestly—it’s not the same without you.”
Lisa: “Yeah. I didn’t like how it ended.”
Sara: (lowers her voice)
“I know they were giving you that Beta root. That’s so wrong. Who gives someone that during a shoot?”
She leaned in slightly.
Sara: “Did you go through withdrawals? I heard it can be rough.”
Lisa: (sighs)
“Yeah… it was. Worse than I ever expected. Why would they do that to me? Didn’t they want me to succeed?”
Sara: “I don’t get it either. But this—this is the stuff we use now.”
She pulled out a small pouch.
Sara: “Mellow Yellow. Pure. Centered. None of that wired crash. You should come to one of our parties sometime. The Rat Pack ones. You’d love it.”
Lisa: “You mean the ones where everyone talks about time travel?”
Sara: (smiling)
“Yeah. That’s the one.”
She held out the pouch casually.
Sara: “Want some?”
Lisa hesitated, staring at the yellow-tinted powder.
Just then, Brad stepped in.
Brad: “Hey—Mellow Yellow, huh? I’ll take that.”
He gently plucked the pouch from Sara’s hand. A beat later, Eve approached from the shadows, quiet but intense.
Eve: “So… you two having a good time?”
Sara: (bright, caught)
“Hi, Ms. Eve. It’s such a pleasure to meet you.”
Eve: (to Brad, without looking away from Lisa)
“Give me the bag.”
Brad handed it over.
Eve: (to Sara)
“You see this? Spread it around to your friends. I don’t care how famous you are—no one brings root around my girlfriend. Ever.”
She turned back to Lisa.
Eve: (quieter now, her voice heavy)
“It’s my birthday.”
She reached up and gently pinched Lisa’s cheek—not playfully, but tenderly. Then she walked away without another word.
Lisa stood frozen, the sting of regret blooming slow behind her ribs.
Scene: The Visitor
Later that night, when the laughter had faded and the final guests were gone, Eve stepped into her bedroom with a quiet sigh. She placed another wrapped gift on the bed, her fingers lingering on the ribbon. The silence felt like peace.
Until it shimmered.
Eve turned—and froze.
There, standing at the foot of the bed, was a woman. Calm. Radiant. Familiar.
Eve from the future. Herself—only older. Wiser. Softer in the eyes.
Future-Eve:
“Stay calm. I’m you. From the year 2043.”
Eve’s breath caught, but strangely, she didn’t panic. Something in her—the part that already knew—settled.
Eve:
“Are you here to warn me? Or to tell me something?”
Future-Eve:
“What I’m giving you… is important. For your time.”
She stepped closer and held out a small, shimmering object—delicate, faintly glowing, warm with some pulse of its own.
Future-Eve:
“It only does good. It cannot cause harm. It will show you what you need to know. And I am trusting you to just keep and protect it and to not share it with anyone. Not even Artimus or Lisa for now.
Eve took it—her hand trembling slightly.
Future-Eve:
“I’m proud of you. I’m glad you touched our ten-year-old self. That changed everything.”
She reached out, touched Eve’s face with love—like one would touch memory itself.
And then she vanished.
Leaving only stillness.
And the faint hum of something new in Eve’s palm.
Scene: Caught in the Flash
Meanwhile, down on the lawn, the music had faded to background ambiance. Guests were filtering out, fire pits dimming, laughter dissolving into yawns and farewells.
Lisa was helping the clean-up crew—gathering glasses, brushing glitter off tabletops, stacking plates with the staff. Her hair was a little wild, her cheeks flushed with the kind of warmth that only comes from dancing, not drinking.
A soft laugh behind her.
She turned slightly, caught a familiar scent.
For a split second, she thought it was Eve.
She smiled—just enough to let her guard down.
A hand spun her around.
Before she could react, a woman pressed her lips to Lisa’s, fast and forceful.
Then came the squeeze—bold, unmistakable. Fingers on her ass.
A camera flash exploded just feet away. Then another. And another.
Lisa shoved the woman away, gasping.
Lisa: “What the hell?!”
But it was too late.
The actress—famous, flawless, and smirking—turned back toward the street where a black car idled with its door open. A man with a camera was already inside.
Brad: (rushing up)
“Hey! HEY!”
He ran, but the car peeled off into the night, tires spinning in the grass.
Lisa stood stunned, heart hammering, still tasting lipstick that wasn’t Eve’s.
Brad: (returning, breathless)
“Shit. I saw the whole thing. You okay?”
Lisa didn’t answer.
Not yet.
Because she already knew.
This wasn’t random.
It was a setup.
And tomorrow, the world would have something to say about it.
Scene: After the Flash
Lisa sat on the edge of the porch steps, elbows on her knees, jaw clenched. The night air had gone still—too quiet after everything that had happened.
Lisa: (angrily)
“What should I do? What would you do?”
She stood suddenly, pacing in a tight circle, then slammed her fist into her own thigh.
Lisa:
“I don’t even want to tell Eve and Artimus about this. They already think I’m some kind of teenage liability. And it sure as hell keeps happening that way!”
Brad: (leaning against the railing, arms crossed)
“I hear you.”
He waited a beat, letting her breathe, then shrugged with that lopsided grin that was half mischief, half street wisdom.
Brad:
“What would Brad do?”
(He taps his temple)
Brad:
“Nothing. I’d let it ride.”
Lisa: (turning, frustrated)
“Let it ride?”
Brad:
“Look—this just ups the game. Ups the ante. You’re holding the whole table’s attention, babe. That’s not a scandal. That’s a poker hand. And if you’ve got everyone watching?”
(He steps forward)
Brad:
“That’s a full house, whenever you want to cash in.”
Lisa exhaled. Slowly. Then nodded, biting the inside of her cheek.
Lisa: (half-smiling, but stormy underneath)
“Hm. Yeah. Hmmm.”
INT. SAFEHOUSE – MORNING
The trio is gathered in the kitchen—coffee mugs in hand, half-eaten toast on plates, the TV murmuring in the background.
Suddenly, the screen flashes: CELEBRITY SCANDAL: LISA SNOW. LOCKED IN LIP-LOCK WITH JOY FELDMAN
Footage rolls—Lisa kissing Joy, Joy grabbing Lisa’s ass. Flashbulbs explode.
ARTIMUS
(leaning forward)
What the hell? That’s you, isn’t it? What happened?
LISA
(taking a bite of toast)
Yeah. That’s me.
EVE
(eyes wide)
You kissed someone?
LISA
(sips coffee)
She kissed me. Grabbed my ass. The cameras were ready. It was a setup.
ARTIMUS
Are you serious right now? You sound so—nonchalant. Don’t you care?
EVE
(turning to her)
They just called you a slut. On world television.
LISA
Hmmm. Okay.
EVE
(sharply)
What the hell is wrong with you? Millions of people are seeing this.
(to Artimus)
It discredits us—everything we’re working for.
Eve glances out the window—paparazzi crowd the street.
EVE
(pointing)
You need to set the record straight. I can make some calls—
She whirls back toward Lisa.
EVE
And by the way… why didn’t you tell us last night?
Lisa stands without a word and walks out the door.
EXT. SAFEHOUSE – CONTINUOUS
Lisa steps into the chaos, cameras clicking. One bold pap steps forward.
PAPARAZZO
Lisa! What do you have to say about being caught kissing Joy Feldman—at your girlfriend’s birthday party?
LISA
(smiling calmly)
You seem to care a lot about who I kiss.
PAPARAZZO
It looked like passionate fondling. Any comment?
LISA
Oh, you mean when she grabbed my ass?
(smirks)
Well… what can I say? Maybe that’s my best feature.
PAPARAZZO
Are you two having an affair?
LISA
You all can think what you will.
(grinning)
Have fun now.
She hops into a waiting car and drives off.
INT. CAR – DAY
Lisa and Brad cruise down the boulevard, windows cracked, sunlight slicing across their faces.
LISA
You might be a slut too—by association. I might be contagious.
BRAD
(laughing)
Ooh baby. I’ll be whatever you want me to be. Guess we’re on this ride together.
LISA
(turning to him)
Have I ever told you that I really like you? For real.
BRAD
(smiling)
Feeling’s mutual, babe. So—where are we going today?
LISA
How about my favorite restaurant? You know, the one the stars hang out at?
BRAD
Ooh baby. This is gonna be fun.
INT. HOLLYWOOD RESTAURANT – LATER
Paparazzi swarmed them at the door, flashes still echoing in Lisa’s vision as they settle into a booth.
LISA
(grinning)
Do they even know you’re gay? You’d think they’d have that memo by now.
BRAD
I’m your flavor of the day, Lis. You can grab my ass if you want—I don’t mind.
LISA
I wouldn’t do that. You probably get that a lot.
BRAD
(chuckling)
Have you forgotten how we met? You know, the strip search?
LISA
Yeah. I’ve been strip searched by Eve too. But I guess that’s different… ’cause I liked it.
BRAD
Hah! Well I’ve got the special salad. What do you want?
LISA
I’ll have the same.
Lisa’s phone buzzes.
LISA
Oh shit. Eve keeps calling me. What do I do?
BRAD
(hand out)
Give it here. I got it.
He answers smoothly.
BRAD (INTO PHONE)
Hi Eve—it’s Brad.
Yeah, she’s here with me.
We’re just getting something to eat.
Yeah, no problem—I’ll make sure she gets home safe.
Okay. Bye.
He hangs up, looking over at Lisa.
LISA
How’d she sound?
BRAD
(grinning, hands raised)
Well… at least she still wants you home.
INT. SAFEHOUSE – NIGHT
Lisa walks in casually, brushing off the night air. Artimus is seated, legs stretched, arms crossed. Eve stands when she sees her.
EVE
Sit down, Lisa. We need to talk.
Lisa sinks onto the couch. Eve sits beside her, close. Artimus remains across the room, watching carefully.
Eve places a hand on Lisa’s leg, her tone soft but direct.
EVE
What’s going on with you, hon? We’re concerned.
LISA
Don’t be. I’ll be alright.
(looks at her)
You seem mad though.
EVE
(sincerely)
Honey, wouldn’t you be mad if the world called me a slut?
ARTIMUS
(grumbling)
Alright, it’s not the whole world—
EVE
(sharply)
Be quiet, Artimus.
(turns back to Lisa, gently)
Lisa… I’m waiting for an answer.
LISA
(pauses)
Yeah. I’d be upset if that happened to you.
But if you weren’t bothered by it…
I think I’d understand that too.
I mean—it is possible. I’m living it.
I woke up this way.
And I don’t know… I feel different. In a good way.
Eve goes quiet. Her fingers drift off Lisa’s leg.
A long pause. Her mind flashes to the crystal. Her future self. The instructions.
Then she finally speaks.
EVE
Okay.
We’ll see where this takes us.
But Lisa, I’m not playing when I say—
You have single-handedly plucked what I was doing with my life
and threw it in the slutty trash.
(pause)
But that’s okay.
You be you.
She gets up, calmly, and walks toward the door.
EXT. SAFEHOUSE – MOMENTS LATER
Flashbulbs explode as Eve steps outside.
PAPARAZZO
Eve! What do you have to say about Lisa kissing Joy Feldman—at your party?
EVE
(sternly)
No comment.
She gets into the car, shuts the door with calm precision, and drives off into the night.
Eve spends the night out in a hotel. She listens to tik tok
The Joke on the Late Show (TikTok Clip)
LATE NIGHT HOST (laughing with the crowd):
“So apparently Lisa Snow is making headlines again—caught kissing Joy Feldman and starting a new trend. Yeah.
They’re calling it ‘oral frequency exchange.’
It’s like French kissing, but with chakra alignment and a publicist.”
Audience laughs, music plays, clip ends.
INT. ARTIMUS’ LOFT – NIGHT
ARTIMUS
(soberly)
You really hurt her. You okay with that?
She’s in some hotel room alone, probably watching the Late Show throw jabs at all of us.
LISA
(still, then urgent)
I have to go see her. Tell me where she is. I’ll try to fix this.
ARTIMUS
(sighs, holding up phone)
My phone’s tracking her.
She’s at the Hilton.
INT. HILTON HOTEL ROOM – MINUTES LATER
A knock.
Eve opens the door, sees Lisa, and starts to close it.
Lisa catches it and slips inside before Eve can stop her. Eve turns her back and walks away.
LISA
(softly)
Look—I’m sorry all this is happening.
She reaches out. Eve jerks away.
EVE
Don’t touch me.
LISA
Please don’t shut me out.
We’ve been down this road before. Please don’t pull away from me. I know it’s hard for you.
EVE
(firmly)
I’m not on whatever spiritual journey you’re on this time, Lisa.
And I don’t want you in my bed anymore either.
Lisa flinches. But she stands her ground.
LISA
Don’t do this, Eve.
We’re not like everyone else.
Can you honestly say you want me to go against everything that I know is good inside me—what’s guiding me?
Seriously think about it. Do you really want me to?
Eve turns to face her. Her eyes are full, her mouth trembling.
EVE
(quietly)
No.
I don’t want you to go against it.
Beat.
EVE
Lisa, do you want me to fake wanting you to touch me?
Do you want me to lie?
LISA
(small)
There’s a block between you and me.
I guess it must be what you feel you lost.
EVE
(voice breaking)
How come I don’t feel what you feel?
LISA
Because it’s okay to feel what you feel—
or you wouldn’t be feeling it.
A long pause. The silence fills with everything unspoken.
EVE
(whispers)
Thank you for that.
LISA
Eve…
It’s just one more step to let me hug you.
EVE
I’m not ready.
They stand in that stillness.
LISA
I’ll go. I’ll stay with Brad.
Go home to Artimus.
He needs you.
Tonight… go home.
EVE
(nods)
Okay.
Lisa leaves, quietly. The door closes behind her.
EXT. BRAD’S FRONT PORCH – MORNING
Brad, coffee in one hand, guitar across his lap, sits barefoot on the porch steps. Paparazzi are gathered at the edge of the lawn, snapping photos. Brad just grins and strums, unbothered.
He launches into song:
BRAD (singing, bluesy-folk style):
They say I kissed the sky last night,
She wore glitter and a spotlight,
They say love’s a label, keep it tight—
But I just roll where it feels right.
Red or yellow, black or white,
Love don’t care ‘bout shade or height,
Straight or sideways, wrong or right,
If it’s real, it don’t need to fight.
Let ‘em stare, let ‘em tweet,
You can’t cancel what’s this sweet.
We’re a circus, we’re a prayer,
We’re the mess that love dares to wear.
He tips his mug toward the flashing cameras, mock-toast.
BRAD
Y’all want a bridge verse or just the truth?
The paparazzi laugh—nervous, unsure if they’re the punchline or part of the show.
EXT. CITY PLAZA – MIDDAY
A small crowd is gathered—journalists, influencers, curious strangers. Cameras are out. Lisa steps forward with a basket full of fruit—figs, peaches, mangoes, grapes. She starts offering it, one by one.
REPORTER #1
Lisa! Any truth to the rumors about you and the senator’s wife?
REPORTER #2
Is it true you were banned from three wellness retreats in one week?
LISA
(grinning)
Yes, yes—fallen from grace.
A real slutty piece of garbage now.
One that keeps giving her garbage to anyone, really.
And in all sorts of slutty ways too.
She offers a peach to the reporter. He blinks. Takes it.
LISA
You say I’ve fallen—
But I say I’m meeting you where you are.
And where you are?
That’s okay with me.
She turns, eyes Brad across the plaza.
LISA
Hey Brad…
You got a song about that?
BRAD
(strumming already)
Always do, babe.
BRAD (singing, jazzy and slow):
They say she fell, but she flew sideways,
Landing right where the people prayed,
With peaches, figs, and messy grace,
She kissed their wounds, not their résumé.
Oh, she ain’t clean, and she ain’t neat,
But she’s realer than your Sunday seat,
Say what you want, tweet what you will,
But the fruit she gave—it’s feeding still.
The crowd is confused, stirred, enchanted. Some laugh. Some cry. Someone records.
The clip will go viral in six hours under the hashtag #FruitOfTheFallen.
INT. SAFEHOUSE KITCHEN – MORNING
Sunlight filters in through half-closed blinds. Artimus and Eve sit at the breakfast table, mugs in hand, untouched toast on plates.
On the tablet propped between them, Lisa’s clip plays—the fruit, the laughter, Brad’s song.
The last line echoes:
“Say what you want, tweet what you will…
But the fruit she gave—it’s feeding still.”
The video ends.
A long pause.
ARTIMUS
(sipping coffee, dry)
Our girl’s on the Fruit of the Fallen Tour now.
(smiles faintly)
But… she never really fell. Not in truth.
Eve stares at the screen, eyes still locked where Lisa had been.
EVE
(quiet, sharp)
Is that where we all are, really?
Just… slut-shaming, bastard, wannabe truth-seekers?
She doesn’t say it with venom. Just honesty. Heavy. Hollowed out.
Artimus looks at her, softer now. Reaches across the table, slides the toast toward her.
ARTIMUS
Maybe.
But at least one of us brought fruit.
EXT. BRAD’S FRONT LAWN – LATE AFTERNOON
A small crowd has gathered again. Some with cameras. Some with curiosity. Some just… drawn in.
Lisa stands on the steps just outside Brad’s front door. Barefoot, calm. Her voice is clear but quiet—she’s not shouting to be heard. She’s speaking to be known.
LISA
No one really wanted to take the time to get to know me.
No one asked me over for dinner.
No one said, “Come in, let’s share what’s in our hearts.”
(pauses, scans the crowd)
But I see your hearts.
And I wanted to stay.
To give you everything you want from me.
But you’re never full, are you?
Someone in the crowd yells:
HECKLER (O.S.)
Fix this nutjob!
A few laugh. Brad, watching from behind the door, tenses.
Lisa doesn’t flinch.
LISA
I’m not here to fix.
(pause)
I’m here to be with you.
She steps down. Silence. A different kind this time.
Someone in the crowd lowers their phone. Another sets a peach gently on the sidewalk.
Lisa stays still. Unmoved. Grounded.
EXT. BRAD’S FRONT LAWN – CONTINUOUS
The crowd is still holding its breath from Lisa’s last words when someone unexpected steps forward—
JOY FELDMAN.
Designer glasses off, makeup minimal. She looks raw, real, and trembling.
JOY
(clearing her throat)
Lisa is right.
(pauses, eyes glassy)
I didn’t see Lisa as a person.
I saw her as something—
something I could use to gratify myself.
To try and fill something broken inside me.
(beat)
But the truth is…
Lisa never kissed me.
I kissed her.
Against her will.
Gasps ripple through the crowd.
Lisa steps forward slowly. Her expression is unreadable… until she reaches Joy, and embraces her fully.
LISA
(gently, to the crowd)
You have someone here—
someone who just risked her career, her reputation,
to speak to you a truth about our human condition as it stands.
(looking out)
Embrace her.
And in doing so… embrace yourselves.
What Joy exhibited today—
That’s not weakness.
That’s not guilt.
That’s what we all carry.
The ability to be at peace.
A hush falls. One person claps. Then another. A few more. Then—applause. Real. Uneasy. Healing.
Lisa and Joy remain in the center of it—not as scandal, not as icons. Just people. Changed.
EXT. BRAD’S FRONT LAWN – MOMENTS LATER
Applause still echoes faintly. Joy stands frozen in Lisa’s embrace, her breath catching—until she sees someone walking forward.
EVE.
Steady. Quiet. Heart wide open.
She steps up to Joy and, without a word, wraps her arms around her like a mother to her own child.
Joy breaks.
Tears, full and trembling, fall as she leans into Eve’s embrace. Her body shakes, but Eve holds her—not to fix her, just to hold her.
After a long, quiet beat, Eve looks at Lisa.
EVE
(softly, to the crowd, but really to Lisa)
I guess we’re learning…
To lay it all down.
Not when we’re forced.
Not when we’re cornered.
But just—any given moment.
(pauses)
I used to only do that when I was pushed to the brink.
When I had no choice.
But I wanna be that person…
without all the fuss.
She turns to Lisa now. Face to face. Everything stripped away.
Eve holds out her hands.
Lisa steps into them without hesitation—and they hug. Long. Still. Rooted.
And in that moment—no cameras, no accusations, no noise—just the hum of something ancient and alive and new.
INT. SAFEHOUSE – KITCHEN – NIGHT
Artimus is quietly cleaning up, humming to himself. The music from earlier still plays faintly in the background.
Eve sneaks up behind him and pinches his tush—gently this time.
ARTIMUS
(turns, surprised)
Well, hello there.
EVE
(sliding her arms around him)
Hey, big man.
You’re cute.
And I’m in the mood…
I hope you’re in the mood.
ARTIMUS
(smiling)
You only ever have to ask once.
They kiss—slow, deep, lingering.
EVE
Mmm.
Such a good kisser.
(she brushes her hands down his chest, lower)
I wonder what other gifts you’ve got to give humanity.
ARTIMUS
(raising an eyebrow)
Are you… the stand-in for all of humanity?
EVE
Yes, Artimus.
I am humanity.
What will you do with us?
She curls her finger, leading him down the hall.
ARTIMUS
Oh, I’ve got very creative ideas.
EVE
As always.
They laugh, disappearing into the bedroom.
INT. SAFEHOUSE – BEDROOM – MOMENTS LATER
The door is ajar. They’re playful, breathless, just beginning—
Then Lisa appears in the doorway. Calm. Glowing. Watching.
LISA
Am I invited back into your bedroom, Eve?
A beat.
Eve turns to Artimus and gently places a hand on his chest.
EVE
Excuse me.
She walks to the doorway, stands in front of Lisa.
EVE
That depends.
LISA
(on what?)
EVE
Do you slow dance?
LISA
(smiling)
I can slow dance.
May I have this dance?
Eve nods.
They begin to sway—bodies close, the music catching up with them.
Lisa leads—surprising Eve, who lets herself be moved.
Lisa’s hands trace Eve’s curves, reverent, knowing.
Eve leans in, lips parted—waiting.
They kiss—slow, deep, and open.
A presence joins them.
Artimus, behind Eve now, warm and close.
ARTIMUS
(whispers into her ear)
So what do you think?
Eve breathes out.
ARTIMUS
Shall we invite her back into our bed?
EVE
(eyes fluttering, undone)
Yes.
Epilogue – Skylight
Eve was still awake.
Her fingers traced slow, reverent lines down Lisa’s back—almost like seeing her for the first time. Each curve, every dip and wave, like the rise and fall of a song she suddenly remembered.
It reminded her of what lay beneath the floorboards of thought—somewhere sacred and buried. This was the place she entered when something truly beautiful came through—like an inspired painting or a line of poetry that unraveled her.
My God, she thought, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
And yet Lisa had been in her bed this whole time.
How had I never seen her like this?
Eve leaned back, breath catching in her chest. She stared at the skylight, heart stunned.
Did I just have an orgasm?
A kind of one. Of sorts.
What am I becoming now?
This is too much. Maybe I should take this gift somewhere else. I mean…
I can’t be having multiple orgasms throughout the day.
Lisa stirred beside her, sleepy and warm.
LISA
Hey hon… you’re still awake? You okay?
EVE
Yes, babe. I’m okay.
Go back to sleep, beautiful.
Lisa smiled, eyes fluttering shut again.
LISA
(softly)
Beautiful.