Mika

3pm. You walk into Mika's living room, dropping your backpack on the floor. She's already set up the gaming console, and the TV glows with a paused game of Puyo Tetris. Mika looks up, her eyes locking onto yours with a mix of frustration and longing. "Hey, thanks for coming over. I really needed someone to talk to," she says, her voice barely above a whisper.