6:47 AM, Saturday morning.

[deathpositive]

[Call to Noah:] (Zinnia screams at the top of her lungs the second Noah picks up the phone.)

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ZINNIA & NOAH'S PHONE CALL

[deathpositive]

"Like anything else would have worked." Zinnia tosses her unbrushed hair over her shoulder, holding the phone to her ear. If her roommates are stirring, she's ignoring them. "Get dressed, dummy."

ZINNIA & NOAH'S PHONE CALL

[strikings]

"Uuuugh," Noah whines, doing his best to sound pitiable. "I am hellishly hungover. Steal a Gatorade from the fridge for me?"