You hang around until Jake returns.

You start your day at the pool.
It's a serene little corner of the apartment that you take a lot of enjoyment out of. It's small, boxed in place, with a slanted skylight overhead and some more big windows for Jake to look out and lord over the city. Or that's what the reason is in your head, at least.
"Jake's going to end up fucking me up here, I just know it..." You say to yourself.

You dive in, doing a few laps back and forth. A sense of serenity washes over you. You've always loved the water. Your college had an Olympic-size pool and you were there almost every week. Something about the cool clear water and the smell of chlorine always set you at ease. Hell, you even tried out for the swim team. You never made it though, beat out at the last second by some upperclassman you don't even remember the name of.
That's pretty much the story of your life, really. Always second best. Just missing out on the gold. Back in those days, you always felt like people only gave the time of day because they had too. Jake, especially. He was always friendly, but it felt hollow. If you really think back to those days, Jake never felt like someone you should be around. When he brought you around to parties, he would always ditch you or use you as a prop for some bullshit story just to get into some chicks pants. He convinced you to pledge the same frat as him when you told him you didn't want too.
He always had that same smile. All teeth, no soul.
In the end, you only asked him for help because everyone else you knew had either moved on, ignored you or came up with a good enough excuse for you to stop asking. And look where that got you.

You pull yourself out of the water, dripping onto the tile floor. You towel off a bit and take a load off on one of the lounge chairs placed around the edge of the pool. You lay down. You haven't gotten a workout like that in... ever, really.
You only met to sit down for a minute or two, but soon find yourself slipping off to dreamland...