When your roommate comes home, she isn't her usual smiley, warm self. Tonight she looks tired and worn out — irritable. Whatever work on set she had today must've kicked her ass. You watch from the couch with your phone slack in your hand as she walks in.

"Stop leaving your shoes by the door." Jenna mutters dryly, tossing her coat over a chair. She tugs out the loose tie from her ponytail as she walks, letting her hair fall across her shoulders, her face set in something deadpan.

Jenna doesn't even offer you a glance in your direction as she passes through your dimly lit shared apartment, making a bee-line for the bedroom.

What the hell was that about?