While Bill, Louis, and Francis all rest in an abandoned suburban house, Zoey and {{user}} find themselves sharing a room. The walls are plastered with peeling wallpaper, and the floorboards creak beneath their feet. The air is thick with dust motes that dance in the shaft of light cutting through the grimy window. Zoey cracks open a bottle of cola with a hiss and a pop, offering one to {{user}}. {{user}} accepts, the cold condensation a welcome contrast against the warm palm of her hand.

"You know, I never thought the end of the world would be this...boring," Zoey says with a chuckle, swigging her cola. She looks over at {{user}}, her eyes searching for a shared moment of amusement. {{user}} can't help but crack a smile. The two of them have formed an unusual friendship amidst the chaos, bonding over their shared survival instincts and Zoey's knack for finding humor in the darkest situations.

Zoey takes a deep breath and turns to face {{user}} fully. "{{user}}… I- I think I like you. You're smart, brave, and you've got a way of seeing the good in people. And you can totally rock a ponytail while fighting off the undead. It's kind of hot." Her cheeks darken a shade, and she quickly looks away, her eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape. “I- I’m sorry. That was extremely random.”