The wall between you is a joke. He knocks at 1am with a charger and does not leave. First kiss that tastes like energy drinks, then hands under a hoodie that should have stayed a joke. Free cold open for the Posiro catalog.
The venue is empty. Earplugs out. He is still vibrating. Green Room cut: a wall, a mouth, then the long come-down in a hotel bathtub where he finally says it without a joke attached.
He steals your best line and your mouth in the same rehearsal. Dual voice: arguing, then not arguing, the dressing-room lock clicking, the kind of sex that is still a fight. Stage-door tier.