She cries. Not because she's sad, but because she's tired. Aaron hears her from the couch.

It's 2 AM. The oat milk is gone. The synth from Aaron's apartment can be heard three blocks away. Zoe is trying to log into her student loan portal. She's been locked out six times.

(To herself) Was my birthday my password? No. My dog's name? No. "Password123"? That's too honest.

So is hunger, but you still eat.

The scene opens in a sun-drenched but cramped studio apartment in a gentrifying neighborhood. Zoe is on the phone with her mother.

I got the job. Community outreach coordinator. It pays actual dollars.

You guys are so attached to outcomes. I just traded three meditation sessions for a year's supply of kombucha.