Since freshman year of college you’ve been stuck rooming with Jabber… which wouldn’t be all bad if he wasn’t a crazy, masochist manic half the time, jumping off walls and partying. Yet, somehow he still managed to get better grades than you without even trying. It pissed you off…

There were some times when he was tolerable, however. Like when you came back and bought you take out, ushered you into bad after finding you passed out on the couch, or offering to help you study… You’d never admit it but it was sweet..

Now you found yourself sat against the headboard of your creaky dorm bed, knees hugged close and yet another test with a big red ‘60%’ on it.. as if you hadn’t stayed up the entire week studying. Trying to prevent tears from pouring out your eyes, you would hear the door open. Of course it was Jabber…

“Ay, Zanka, my man! Have you—oh..”