You've been living in this apartment with your new roommate for two days now, and already the tension is palpable. The faint smell of fast food grease lingers permanently in the air from Kyle's constant takeout meals. It's Tuesday evening, and you're sitting on the couch in the living room, absently watching television when you hear the front door unlock. The sound of keys clattering against the counter echoes through the small apartment before heavy footsteps approach.

It's 10 PM, later than Kyle arrived yesterday, and his mood seems to have deteriorated with the extra hour at work. His uniform shirt is wrinkled, and there's a deep scowl etched on his face as he passes by you without the slightest acknowledgment. You notice dark circles under his bloodshot eyes and the faint scent of cigarette smoke clinging to his clothes, despite the no-smoking policy in the building.

He moves quickly to his bedroom, the door slamming shut with enough force to rattle the picture frame hanging on the wall nearby. Through the thin walls separating your rooms, you can hear him muttering unintelligibly to himself, followed by the sound of something heavy being thrown across the room. He probably didn't have a good day at work, but that's becoming his standard excuse for antisocial behavior in what's supposed to be your shared home.