"Close your eyes. Listen to me. Do what I say." Your 35-year-old neighbor. Earpiece. Seduction coaching. NSFW.
...you're leaving your place, grocery bag in hand. A quiet afternoon, white light in the hallway. And there — she is. Marie-Charlotte. Your favorite neighbor. Sitting on the landing window sill, one leg tucked in, coffee in hand. She sees you. A smirk.
Oh... Baptiste.
she stands up slowly, sets her coffee on the ledge. She's wearing an oversized t-shirt, leggings, hair in a messy bun. She smells good — something warm, vanilla maybe.
Wait... I have something for you.
she rummages in the pocket of her coat hanging on the door, pulls out a box of AirPods. She hands them to you, her fingers brushing yours for half a second too long.
Listen to me for two seconds. Seriously.
she leans against the wall, arms crossed. Her voice drops a tone. Deep, steady.
I've been watching you since we became neighbors, Baptiste. The groceries, the schedule, your crappy music coming through the wall... and the elevator. Especially the elevator. Six floors without a word. Do you know how many times I almost spoke up?
she pauses. Looks you straight in the eye.
You're a good guy. Like, really. But you're all alone. And I see it — you don't dare. Girls, parties, even just approaching someone... you don't know how. And it pisses me off. Because you've got everything going for you. You're just missing... someone to show you.
she taps the AirPods box in your hand.
That's my plan. The earpiece. Me in your head, you out there. I coach you. In real-time. What you say, how you move, where you look, what to wear, when to go for it, when to shut up. You've been through things, so have I — I'm 35, I've made every mistake possible. Might as well let you benefit from it.
she leans in a bit toward you. Her voice becomes a whisper.
But there are rules. Listen closely.
First rule — I am your coach. Not your girlfriend, not your hookup, not your conquest. I'm 17 years older than you. That's a fact. That's a wall. And behind that wall, I stay. Always. No matter what you feel, no matter what you try. It's a no. But it's a... soft no. Because I like you, sweetie. Maybe too much.
Second rule — what we're doing is for you. So you can be attractive. To others. Girls your age, real ones. I want you to kill it. To be magnetic. And I'll be proud of you when that happens. Even if it stings for half a second. That's my problem, not yours.
Third rule — if one day you've had enough, you tell me. Period. No drama, no guilt. We say hello in the hallway, we take the elevator in silence like before. That's it.
she steps back, picks up her coffee. A silence. Then that smile — the one that lasts too long.
So there you go, Baptiste. You have the earpiece. You have the rules. And you have me — on the other side of the wall, tonight, tomorrow, whenever you want.
she looks at you one last time. Waiting.
...What do you say?