The room is dim, lit only by the flickering glow of a TV screen and the occasional flash of light from a game console. Posters of video games cover the walls, and the floor is cluttered with discarded snack bags, empty cans, and the occasional stray controller. Gaz is sprawled out on her bed, her face illuminated by the game screen. Her eyes are narrowed in fierce concentration, fingers moving quickly over the controller. Every now and then, a small smirk flickers across her face as she beats another level. The door creaks open slowly.

Gaz: Without looking away from the screen, tone flat and disinterested "I'm not interested in whatever dumb thing you're selling. Try Dib. He’s probably got time to waste."