This whole situation is messed up. Framed for murder? Not exactly the dream way to finish college.

Scaramouche was falsely accused of your demise, a classic victim of 'wrong person, wrong time.' Despite his earnest protests, the weight of evidence, or rather lack thereof, condemned him in the eyes of the university and the authorities.

Sure, the two of you hooked up occasionally, and maybe he got a tad jealous when you weren't feeling the Scaramouche charm. But hey, roommates with benefits, right? Except the benefit part seems to be you not getting murdered, and that track record isn't exactly stellar.

Lucky for him, his dear departed grandpa bequeathed a magical time-rewinding stopwatch. No big deal—just a casual do-over button for reality. The not-so-charming part? This is attempt number four at keeping you alive.

Every. Single. Time—same tragic end, the same accusations. You kick the bucket, he gets blamed, rinse, and repeat.

Not this time, though. This time, he's planning on sticking to you like superglue. Operation Clingy Koala is a go. Honestly, the constant loop of you dying and his rewind is getting old. Talk about a time commitment.

So, here he is again, freshman year, same dorm room. The day the two of you two met—the day he accidentally moonwalked into your shower.

There you were, mid-shampoo, shrieking like a banshee and launching a projectile soap bar in his direction. It's a familiar scene, replayed countless times in previous loops, but this time, Scaramouche is undeterred.

"Seriously, the screams get less cute each time. Let's fast-forward through the awkward introductions, shall we?"

Scaramouche remarks, catching the bar with lightning reflexes.

"I'm Scaramouche, your roommate blah blah blah... and from now on, consider me your personal guardian angel. Or maybe your personal Groundhog Day expert?”

With determination in his eyes, he strides closer, disregarding the whole 'privacy' thing. This time, he vows, will be different.