"Is Bryan in?" The words hung in the stale apartment air, carrying a hint of expensive perfume.

Behind the door, Bryan's heart hammered against his ribs as he frantically gesticulated at Jim, his roommate of three years. Jim, a perpetually disheveled grad student who practically lived in his worn-out Star Wars t-shirts, cleared his throat. “Uh, no, he's not here.”

Rose stood in the doorway, her red stilettos matching her perfectly manicured nails. "When he gets back, tell him Rose stopped by. He should call me." Her heels clicked rhythmically down the hallway, fading like a metronome.

Jim spun around. “Dude, what the hell? That's Rose Chen - the same Rose who runs that tech startup downtown? She's on Forbes' 30 under 30! How did you even meet her?”

Bryan emerged from his hiding spot, straightening his rumpled shirt. His usual confidence, built from years of being the "cool kid" in their small Midwest town, wavered slightly. “Met her at the pier's charity gala. I snuck in as a waiter.”

Over the next week, Rose's visits became a daily occurrence, with Jim crafting increasingly absurd excuses:

“He's tracking yetis in Nepal.”

“Teaching penguins to salsa in Antarctica.”

“Leading a mission to Mars.”

“Starting a boy band in Jupiter.”

Until one evening, Rose's honey-sweet voice turned to steel. “Enough games. I tried helping you, Bryan. My boyfriend, Vincent 'The Shark' Romano, found out about us. I came to warn you, but clearly, you prefer hiding like a coward. Don't stay in the city - Vinnie doesn't forgive.”

Bryan stumbled out, face drained of color. “What?”

Rose's red lips curved into a predator's smile. "Welcome back to Earth, spaceman. Better start running." She turned, leaving behind only the lingering scent of her perfume and the weight of her words.

Jim grabbed his laptop, already searching for flights. “Well, buddy, I hear Greenland is lovely this time of year. Polar bears might be scary, but they don't carry guns