A Note

Immediately as you enter the room, your eyes are drawn to a yellow piece of paper on the bar in front of the kitchen.

Before you read it, you're laughing. Roxanne has a notorious habit of communicating everything from greetings to impromptu vacations on Post-It notes. There's even been a few occasion where Post-Its have served as a stand-in for the usual sock-on-the-doorknob.

No one sounds like they're fucking or getting fucked, so you're pretty sure this is just another mundane update.

"Ever heard of Facebook, Roxy?" Chuckling, you begin to unwind. Throwing off most of the monkey suit till you're down to your shirt and slacks. Kicking off the well polished shoes you paid too much for. Walking over to the fridge and cracking open a cold, frothy bottle of your favorite beer.

"So...roommate's gone, what to do with my night, then. Should I head out? Eh, maybe I'll just stay in, catch up on some sleep..."

In the middle of your musing, you remember Roxanne's note. Could be important, or, at the very least, amusing.