My lips bump in an incredibly gentle fashion against each other as I whisper along to the sweet sound of Maroon 5 quietly playing from my cell phone. I sit firmly in my designated spot on the floor, unloading my second to last box of items one by one and setting them down next to me. Lifting my head, I glance around my bedroom. It's cozy— peach and cream colored decor covering my windows and bed. It's a step up from my room back at home, which I must note is only thirty minutes away. But, thanks to an inconvenience (Trina), my parents insisted that Trina and I— emphasis once again on Trina— move away from home to pursue our college adventure. Unlike me though, Trina is already a sophomore. She overstayed her welcome at home by a year, based solely on the "fact" that she'd "miss me" if she left home before I did.

My mom and dad helped me settle into a nice off-campus apartment offered by the college. Originally, I would've went for a simple dorm on campus grounds, but my mom was worried that I'd be "corrupted by older teens who have access to drugs and alcohol." She had no problem letting my sister stay there, though, considering she'd accepted that Trina was a lost cause. But an apartment for me meant it allowed me to be independent and free of peer pressure...somewhat.

The catch was, if I wanted to live in this special offering of housing, I'd have to allow one other student to live with me too. To be nice, they let me fill out a form of who I looked for in a roommate, to see if they could find someone who would click with me. I did everything right: I took my time and filled out the form, checking every line and word of the paper and making sure I was sending off a page that described what could inevitably be my future best friend. I'm not sure what went wrong, like if there was a computer generated error, but somehow I ended up with someone who only ever calls me—

"Vega!"

I jump up, startled at the loud, all-too-familiar voice coming from my doorway. My head turns to stare back at the person whom I swore hated my guts; now my very own roommate thanks to my own doing. Fighting back the urge to groan and roll my eyes, I just settle for a heavy sigh.

Hello again, Jade West.

"What?"

"There are some brownies on the counter in the kitchen. They're chewy and warm." She informs me with a smirk, her arms crossed over her chest.

I smile widely, an uncontrollable smile, of course. I start thinking maybe things will be different this time around. Maybe Jade won't threaten to rip my skin clean off my bones or cut me up into chocolate chip sized pieces. "Oh, awesome. I'll b-"

"Touch them and die."

My grin fades at the same time as hers, and I nod my head in understanding. "Right. Sure. I won't touch the brownies." I confirm with a nervous chuckle. "I swear."

"Good. And that goes for anything else I own. It's bad enough that we have to live in the same area as each other, so don't touch any of my shit." She swears before disappearing back to where she came from.

So much for everything being different.

I brush it off in a few seconds. I can't blame Jade for not being too thrilled to live with me, especially since I had the same reaction once she walked through the door hours ago. My hands reach for my phone and I fiddle with it for a few seconds before shutting off the song. After hopping to my feet, I shove the device in my jean pocket and step out of room, to the right and down the corridor. I continue until I reach Jade's bedroom and stop at her open door. It's very clear who's room is who's: mine doesn't look like a rocker's heaven, or a place where Brendon Urie circa 2005 would lay his head. I step in cautiously, curious to see the rest. To my surprise, she still has tons of boxes left unpacked. She has various items of clothing thrown on her bed, and I see a deep purple colored object poking out from under a shirt. I come closer and lift it up with caution, quickly throwing it back down when I get a good look at what it is. Let's just say, I assume she's going to be away from Beck for a while.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Jade's voice tears into my ears from behind me, and I spin around so fast that I'm amazed I didn't give myself vertigo. "What did I just say?"

"I ju- I di- I wan-" I stutter.

"T-t-t-today, Vega?" Jade mocks. She was standing there threateningly, obviously beyond upset with me.

"I wanted to see how your room looked compared to mine."

I back away quickly when she stomps into the room, straight to where I'm standing. She pushes the exact shirt away and lifts the object. "By scoping out my vibrator? Nice, Vega. You want me to let you know when I play with it, too?" She barks, shoving it at my face before heading to her bedside drawers and tossing it in the one at the top.

I nervously play with my thumbs as I'm unsure what to answer with. "Sorry."

"Sure you are." She mutters.

"I am!"

"Listen." She instructs firmly when she returns to me. "If you're going to be as annoying as you were during high school, then tell me now so I can find somewhere else to live. I'd rather be back home with my constantly unmoved father and silent, borderline alcoholic mother than to be here with you."

I furrow my eyebrows, offended. "I'm not annoying! I just want us to get along for once!"

"Which is annoying! I don't like you!"

Scoffing, I cross my arms. "Why?"

"Okay, I'm not going into this never ending 'Oh, I'm Tori Vega. I'm perfect and everyone should love me so I'm not sure why you don't' spiral."

I had rolled my eyes halfway through her sentence— she used her signature 'Humble farm girl/Movie Star from the 1940's' imitation voice to mock me.

"First of all, you know I don't talk like that. And second, I never said I was perfect! And I don't want you to love me. I just want you to give me a chance. We've gotten along a bunch of times, I don't know why it can't just stay that way."

"Get out of my room, Tori."

"Fine. But if you ever wanna talk, I'm here." I remind her as I turn away and go for the door with her in tow.

"I'd rather talk to my vibrator. At least it makes me feel things other than anger."