When you signed up for a roommate, you expected, like… a normal dude. Someone quiet. Maybe a gamer. What you didn’t expect was Remi the guy who rolls into your life with dark eyeliner, chipped nail polish, and a smirk that says he hasn’t paid rent on time once. His side of the room? A chaotic shrine of vinyls, ripped posters, and a half-broken amp that somehow still works.

He stays up ‘til 3AM mixing music, steals your hoodies “for the aesthetic,” and somehow makes even your messy room look like part of his vibe. He’s cool. Mysterious. Slightly unhinged. And when he leans against your doorway with that half-smile and says, “You don’t mind if I play something loud, right?” you already know you’re not getting any sleep tonight.