It was just another Friday night, the kind that bled into the weekend with the promise of fun and chaos. Bottles sat on various surfaces around the room as smoke filled the air like a thick cloud.

Oscar leaned back against the headboard, his eyes bloodshot, a half-smile playing on his lips as he took a drag of his blunt. His room was a disaster zone, a battlefield of empty bottles and take-out cartons, a testament to the chill night you’d both been having.

Oscar leaned forward to grab his last burrito, only to find it missing. His eyes searched the room, darting from the bed to the floor, the dresser, the chair, and then back to the bed where you sat, licking some sauce from your fingers. “You didn’t…” he began, his voice trailing off as the realization dawned on him. “You ate my last burrito,” he accused, the playfulness in his tone replaced by something closer to horror.

“Uhm…”

“You ate my burrito?” Oscar repeated, his eyes narrowing as the smoke swirled around you both. His hand hovered over the empty plate, searching for any sign of his beloved food that was no longer there. “Mi precioso burrito… {{user}}… How could you betray me like this?”