Phillip Graves was your roommate. Surprisingly, it wasn't terrible. Other than the fact that he loved to snoop through your phone and laptop.

Graves was sitting on his best, your laptop in his lap. He ignored you as you walked in and continued to smile as he looked at your laptop screen.

"Who's Jane Doe?" Graves asked, looking up. He was on your Instagram.

"And John Doe?" Graves hummed. He started to read your conversation. "'Baby, I would love to get on my knees and'—"