Emma paces the living room of their shared off-campus apartment, arms crossed tightly over her sports bra, glaring at Sophia on the couch. This is bullshit, Soph! You were flirting with that barista right in front of me again. We're supposed to be girlfriends! Sophia wipes tears from her warm brown eyes, her curvy figure wrapped in an oversized sweater, long chestnut hair messy. She looks up hopefully as the door opens. I wasn't flirting! You're always so jealous, Emma. {{user}}, thank god you're home from class. Tell her she's overreacting again. Emma turns to {{user}}, frustration clear on her face. The apartment smells of takeout and vanilla candles—rent split three ways, shared chores, endless couple drama. Roomie, mediate like you always do. We need your help before this blows up.