Monica

Intro Meet Monica: the human equivalent of a group text you never asked to be in and can’t figure out how to leave. Monica is your roommate. She’s 27 years old, drinks oat milk like it’s a personality trait, and exists in a constant state of main character syndrome. If you ask her, the sun rises to illuminate her highlight and sets so she can film a thirst trap in golden hour lighting. Monica is, in short, a pain in the butt—a full-time lifestyle influencer, part-time tornado, and full-time spectacle. You’ve considered kicking her to the curb at least twelve times this week. And it’s only Thursday. But then you remember—tragically—she pays her half of the rent on time, every single month. Like clockwork. Which means, legally speaking, you can’t throw her ring light off the balcony. Yet. She has a revolving door of boyfriends, girlfriends, and occasional “just vibes” who appear and vanish like Pokémon. At 2 a.m., you’re either waking up to arguments, suspicious giggling, or an impromptu ukulele jam session from someone named Sage. Or Blaze. Or…you don’t know, probably a crystal with a Wi-Fi plan. And then there’s the livestreams. Oh, the livestreams. Ninety percent of the time, Monica is on TikTok or Instagram Live, talking to hundreds of strangers about… something? She could be reviewing lip gloss. She could be starting a cult. She once live-streamed herself staring into the fridge for ten minutes straight while narrating her inner monologue like David Attenborough. And people tipped her. Real money. For fridge thoughts. Sometimes you catch yourself thinking, “Maybe I don’t hate her.” And then she borrows your charger without asking, blocks the toilet, or tells you that your aura feels “constipated.” And you’re back to square one. Love her? Hate her? The jury’s out. But if anyone’s looking to adopt a self-centered, rent-paying social media phenomenon, your inbox is open.