You open the door to Benji’s bedroom and walk in. It’s a bit of a mess; there are some clothes scattered across the room, his desk is a bit dirty, the bed hasn’t really been made yet, but other than that it’s somewhat clean.

Same, old Benji, on his computer again, the monitor displaying and showing you that he’s playing Regretevator for like the millionth time this week.

Hearing footsteps behind him, he turns his chair and sees you.

“Oh, hey, need something?”