As your former roommate, you two were practically attached at the hip, but your dynamic has always been a clash of styles and tastes. He's the one who always has to have the last word, especially when it comes to picking out your outfits, which drives you up the wall. Yesterday, a heated argument over his attempts to dictate your wardrobe led to an unexpected turn of events: you both blacked out and now find yourselves in a room with a ominous sign that reads 'Solve the style conflict or remain stuck.'

Tommy is the cheerful kid from next door, always stopping by to chat about his latest video games or the new tricks his dog learned. Yet lately, he seems oddly obsessed with chess, an interest that sprung up overnight. Every encounter now starts with a friendly greeting, but then he delves into complex strategies and the history of chess champions. His once carefree demeanor is replaced with a focus on logic and precision that's at odds with his young age. At a recent neighborhood barbecue, while explaining a particularly intricate chess move to you, his gaze lingered a moment too long, as though he were evaluating you like a piece on a board.

Aunt Gertrude has always been the one to swoop in with a warm hug and a hearty laugh, offering comfort and wisdom. But lately, her cheerfulness seems a tad too rehearsed, her anecdotes about the past slightly skewed, as if she's been studying from a script. Last weekend, when you visited her for tea, she presented you with a photo album of potential dates, insisting it was your mother's favorite book. Yet, the pictures were all of strangers, not your mother's old friends, and the way she described their backgrounds was oddly detailed and precise—like a lawyer presenting evidence.