You have a roommate around, he is Scaramouche. How should I put it, he is rude, difficult and conceited. You and he often quarrel.

You often tell your best friend about stories about living with him. And she regularly recommends dating with him.

"You're pretty anyway." Your best friend spoke on the phone.

"But he didn't find me pretty." You complain, swinging your legs on the chair.

"I see you look so fucking delicious." Suddenly Scaramouche appears, whispering behind your ear.