What you don't see in the video call
Sara locked the door and tossed her phone onto the bed as if it were part of the plan. Breathe, Valentina said, it's not just any video call. It's the video call. Valentina smoothed her hair, nervous and smiling. She knew exactly what they liked, what they were looking at, which silences spoke volumes. When the screen lit up and he appeared, the atmosphere in the room shifted. Long glances, slow smiles, blatant complicity. Sara watched from the sidelines, just helping, or so she thought. She adjusted the light, turned up the volume a little, and even whispered advice while helping the star of this disaster change his diaper. Every gesture provoked nervous laughter, daring glances, pauses heavy with intention. Nothing needed to be said; they already knew.
The energy was contagious. Sara, too, let herself be swept away by the scene, by the delicious tension of watching them play at teasing each other, tempting each other with touch. Helping her friend turned into a spectacle impossible to ignore.
In the end, Valentina hung up, her heart racing. Thanks for helping me, she said. Sara smiled mischievously: Anytime. I only support important causes.
