Roommates, Inc.

Harsh white LED light. One desk. Three mismatched chairs. Whiteboard. Too little space.

KAVYA stands at the whiteboard like a CEO in exile.

NORA sits with a mug and a calculator app.

PALLAVI fans herself with the pitch deck.

Okay. One more time. Investor enters, we smile, we say the line, and then we close.

Close kya? We haven’t even opened the deck properly.

Opening is branding. Closing is confidence. And currently, we have neither.

We have a product.

We have a room.

We have a room with aspirations.

Can we not start with negativity?

Can we not start with fake confidence?

Can we not start with coffee?

No.

Then this is not a startup. This is a punishment.

Focus. Line bolo.

KAVYA clears her throat.

“We are building the future of collaborative living.”

No.

What do you mean no?

We are not building the future. We are trying to survive this quarter.

Also, “collaborative living” sounds like a therapy app for couples.

It is aspirational.

It is vague.

It is expensive-sounding nonsense.

Fine. Nora, you say it.

NORA stands.

Hi. We help small teams share office space without losing their minds.

Too dry.

Too boring.

Too honest?

Exactly.

We need charm.

We need rent.

We need both. Unfortunately.

PALLAVI flips the deck.

Try this. “Roommates, Inc. turns chaos into community.”

That’s just our office signboard.

Actually, that’s not bad.

Of course you like it. It sounds like a quote on a candle.

Thank you.

That was not a compliment.

I know. Still accepted.

Can we rehearse without fighting?

Then stop changing the line every ten seconds.

And stop saying “synergy” like it’s a personality.

I never said synergy.

You said it in the elevator.

That was once.

Once too many.

Beat.

Coffee.

Again?

Yes. Investor pitch without coffee is just a hostage situation.

We have instant coffee.

Investor coffee should feel artisanal.

Investor coffee should be hot.

Investor coffee should be photogenic.

Investor coffee should not bankrupt us.

Why are you always against presentation?

Why are you always against reality?

Because reality has bad lighting.

They all look up at the harsh LED.

Okay. New line. “We make shared workspaces feel personal.”

That is actually good.

Yes. Finally. Human. Clean. Sellable.

Thank you.

Don’t get used to it.

PALLAVI notices a sticky note on the whiteboard.

What’s this?

She peels it off.

“Investor call 5 PM. Don’t be weird. -A.”

A?

Who is A?

Admin.

We are the admin.

I didn’t write it.

Neither did I.

Well, somebody in this room is emotionally literate.

KAVYA opens the desk drawer.

What is all this?

She pulls out three printed pages.

Why are there three copies?

Because one of us is organized and the other two are decorative.

KAVYA reads.

Same investor name.

Same meeting time.

Same subject line.

Wait.

Why is there a draft message on all three?

Read the footer.

“Kavya.”

Mine says “Nora.”

Mine says “Pallavi.”

Beat.

This is not a coincidence.

It is a conspiracy with formatting.

Maybe one of us sent the same text by mistake.

What text?

The breakup text.

Silence.

What breakup text?

You know what breakup text.

The one we all sent.

We did not all send a breakup text.

We did.

Technically, yes.

To the investor?

Apparently.

Same investor.

Why would we do that?

Because he kept asking for “one more revision.”

And because he said our deck lacked emotional honesty.

So you replied with a breakup text?

I said “we need space.”

I said “please don’t call.”

I said “it’s not you, it’s our ecosystem.”

That sounds like a breakup.

That sounds like a breakup written by a consultant.

Why did nobody stop this?

Because you were “in a visionary mood.”

And you were “testing brand tone.”

I hate both of you.

No, you don’t.

You need us. That’s different.

A phone on the desk VIBRATES.

Please don’t be him.

It’s the shared office number.

Play it.

NORA taps speaker.

RECORDED VOICEMAIL (V.O.)

Hi. This is a reminder for your 5 PM meeting. Also... thanks for the breakup text. Let’s keep it professional.

The voicemail ends.

Beat.

Oh.

Oh no.

He took it personally.

He was not supposed to take it romantically.

Why did you say “romantically”?

Because now I’m scared.

Okay, nobody panic.

Too late.

I’m not panicking. I’m processing.

We can fix this.

How?

We pitch.

After sending a breakup text?

To the same investor?

Yes. We say it was a misunderstanding.

A misunderstanding with three signatures?

And one shared ego?

Fine. Then we say the company has grown.

From what? Poor judgment?

Kavya, be serious.

I am serious.

Then act like it.

I’m trying.

You’re pitching at us again.

She does that when scared.

I do not.

You absolutely do.

You two are impossible.

And yet, here we are.

Because somebody has to remember the numbers.

I remember the numbers.

Then say them.

We’re three months from runway trouble.

And?

And we have one investor meeting left.

And a killer pitch.

And zero dignity.

That too.

A KNOCK at the door.

All three freeze.

He’s early.

Who?

The investor.

The KNOCK again.

VOICE OUTSIDE (O.S.)

Sorry, I’m early. And this time, rent bhi late nahi chahiye.

The three stare at each other.

That voice...

No.

Yes.

No way.

Tell me that is not...

It is.

Our former landlord.

The one who said our startup was “noise.”

The one who deducted deposit for “creative damage.”

He said he was an investor.

He said he was interested in our vision.

He was interested in our security deposit.

Another KNOCK.

VOICE OUTSIDE (O.S.)

Hello?

KAVYA straightens her shirt.

Smile.

Why?

Because if we cry, he’ll charge extra.

KAVYA opens the door slightly.

She puts on a bright, fake smile.

Welcome.

We were expecting someone else.

But same ecosystem.