You move into a suspiciously low rent apartment, that’s in some disrepair but not enough to account for the price. It turns out the other occupants are all evil supernatural beings. They set out to torment you, but then discover that you have done more to repair the building than the landlords.
The stairs creek under the weight of me and my suitcase as I struggle to haul the thing up the third flight of stairs. Curses leave my mouth faster than an extremely upset ‘Karen’, but I try to keep it at least somewhat under my breath in respect to my new neighbors. I finally manage to get the damn thing onto the next floor, as it and I fall over (me from exhaustion and my suitcase because it’s missing a wheel).
“Fucking finally,” I huff. “That’s the last of them.” After catching my breath, I kick the suitcase a few feet before just grabbing and dragging it. “Why doesn’t this fuckin place have an elevator?”
A key turn later and I’m in my new place. I glance around. The wallpaper is stained and peeling in some places and dust covers the ground. “I’m gonna name this place the shit shack,” I mumble. “But that’s what you get for $355 a month.” I move to the window and slide it open, the cool autumn air immediately pushing its way inside and blowing dust into my face.
*cough cough* “Fuck!” *cough* I back away until my cough goes away. “I should probably unpack,” I sigh.
And then I didn’t.
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PART 2:
The answer was no. No I had not. Time to fix that, I guess.
I go up the rest of the stairs, careful to skip the more sketchy ones. As the poor college student I am, instant ramen will once again be my dinner tonight. But I am no peasant! I add a soft-boiled egg to my ramen, like the classy bitch I am.
A classy bitch who’s poor, but a classy bitch nonetheless.
Stepping onto the balcony, I slurp my noodles while looking out at the nearby woods, enjoying the peace and quiet. The trees rustle with the breeze, the multicolored leaves shifting around. Beneath me, I hear another balcony door slide open then… the sound of a fan? I place my mostly empty noodles on the balcony railing, then lean over the edge.
My downstairs neighbor is putting a blanket over his balcony railing, before he heads back inside. The fan is positioned to be blowing into the apartment, though I can’t see inside. I do hear sweeping inside, and moments later, gray tufts of fur float onto the balcony. He must be the guy who owns the dog.
I lean over the railing a little more, hoping that I’ll be able to see the pupper, but the wind decides now’s a good time to blow a little harder, which sends my hair into my face and my noodles over the edge…
Splatting right onto my downstairs neighbor’s blanket, the now completely empty noodle cup rolling on his balcony.
“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!” I yelp. Before he can respond, I run back inside my apartment. Shoving my feet into my shoes, I hurry downstairs and knock on his door. It soon swings open, revealing a taller man with a mop of brown hair on his head. He sort of reminds me of a beanpole, but now is not the time to think of gardening. Or beans.
“I am so sorry! The wind knocked my noodles over. I thought it would be heavy enough not to be blown over,” I explain quickly, silently lamenting the loss of my classy-bitch-egg that I never got to eat.
“It's fine,” the man replies, his voice gruffer than I expected. “I can just wash it again. Shame my dryer isn’t working though.” A small puff of gray fur rolls out of his apartment and stops on my foot.
“Do you have a dog?” I blurt out. It's too late. My brain is thinking about one thing and one thing only now: dogs. The man stiffens a bit, as my thoughts whirl about what type of dog he has. It must be a long haired breed, right? Since there is all this fur. And this grey color… Oh! The howling last night! I must be a husky! Oh my gosh, there is a husky in there and I may be able to pet it if I-
“No, I don’t,” he says slowly, his eyes darting around my face.
I can’t help it when my expression falls. “Oh.” Then confusion. “Then why do you have so much fur in your apartment?” Ah yes, I love it when my mouth is much faster than my brain.
He pauses for a little, his mouth open slightly. Damn his canine teeth are LORGE. “My… cousin brings his dog over sometimes,” he trails off.
So pupper sometimes, got it. “That’s awesome!” I smile. “Next time he brings the dog over, may I meet it?” I bounce a little, then almost slip because my shoes aren’t on completely. I take this moment to make sure my heels are actually in the shoes.
“Uh,” my neighbor sweats a little, biting his lower lip. “Maybe..? The dog isn’t very friendly.”
Oh. Once again my face falls and my disappointment must be very obvious because my neighbor flinches slightly. I try to pick up my smile. “It's okay! The dog’s comfort is most important.” His eyes widen a little. “Anyways, sorry about my noodles,” I smile sheepishly while rubbing my neck. “You mentioned your dryer’s not working. If you want you can borrow mine. Or I can look at yours? Or both?”
“It's really no problem,” he mumbles looking backwards into his apartment, probably towards the blanket. I shake my head.
“That’s what I should be saying,” I sigh. “It's getting colder at night now, it's important to have enough layers.” Gosh, I sound like my mother. “It's not like we have fur to cover our bodies,” I joke. My neighbor does not laugh. Embarrassment decides to crawl up my cheeks and make them redder. “A-anyways! Please let me look at your dryer!”
For a moment I think he’ll say no again, as he examines me, sizing me up. Finally, he steps aside and opens the door more. I step inside and he closes the door behind us. “I never caught your name,” I say as I follow him in.
“Diego,” he says simply, leading me into the living room.
“Nice to meet you, Diego. My name is-” my words catch in my throat. Diego’s place is destroyed. The couches are torn up and ripped, their stuffing popping out in some spots. There are gashes on the walls and floors, but the most prominent issue is the sheer amount of fur that is EVERYWHERE. He must have groomed that husky in here for there to be that much fur, jeeze.
Diego glances back at me, examining my face as I take everything in. My rationality is asking how the hell this place got so busted, while my anxiety tells me to shut up and not ask. “Bet that dog is a cutie,” I say, deciding to focus my attention on the dryer.
“Maybe. More a menace though,” he mutters the second part under his breath but I laugh anyway. His dryer, like mine, is in the kitchen and I walk over to it as he gets his blanket from the balcony. Like everything else, it's blanketed in fur. I press the start button and it goes, surprising me.
“Seems like it's working just fine?” I turn to Diego, confused.
He shakes his head. “It’ll go, but it doesn’t dry anything.” He says as he shoves his blanket into the washer.
“Does it still get warm?” He nods, and I think I already know the solution.
I open the door and pull out the lint catcher and, yep, it's completely full. Pulling out the carpet of lint and holding it up, I look at Diego, my mouth in a tight frown. The only word that escapes me is “Bruh.”
He tilts his head slightly like a confused puppy. “What’s that?”
“The lint trap, man. You gotta clean this out every time you use the dryer,” I say, grimacing. “You’re lucky this didn’t start a fire!”
His eyes go wide, looking between me, the lint slab dangling from my hand, the dryer then back at me. I shake my head, put the lint trap back and place the compacted fluff into the trash. If he doesn’t know this… his vent is probably clogged too. I look at his room and the open balcony door with the fan outside and the fur rolling around on the floor.
“Okay, Diego, this is what’s gonna happen,” I sigh. “Can you pull your dryer out while I grab something from my apartment upstairs?” He nods and as I start to leave I hear a rubber rumble as he easily yoinks the machine away from the wall. Who knew Mr. Beanpole had it in him.
A few minutes later, I’m back from my apartment with the leaf blower my dad insisted I bring, despite me living in an apartment. Hose to the vent, I turn the blower and we go to the balcony and watch the lint fly out from a vent on the side of the building.
“We’ll let that go for a few minutes, then we can use the leaf blower to blow all the fur onto the balcony or out the front door,” I smile.
“You’re very handy,” Diego returns my smile with a little one of his own. “Do you think… you could look at something else, too?”
“Of course,” I nod. Yesss, give me all those good neighbor points and forget that fact I dropped noodles from the sky.
He points to his window air conditioner. “This isn’t working as well compared to when I first got it. And it heats up a lot.”
“Something’s probably wrong with the filter,” I say as I go over to it, turning the machine off. I open it up and- yup, the filter is dirtier than my search history. JK, haha… at least I didn’t say that out loud.
An explanation and a call later, I’m sitting at Diego’s desk ordering him a new filter because the landlord, as I fucking predicted, said he wouldn’t cover the cost of a new one. “Does the dog come often?” I ask, scrolling through Amazon.
“Dog?” Diego echoes back as he does the head tilt thing again.
“Your cousin’s dog?”
“Oh! Yeah, uh, that dog,” he looks away for a moment. “About, uh, once a month.”
“Once a month? And you get all this fur?” I look at him, eyes wide. Maybe I’m off on the husky mark. Maybe it's a great pyrenees? Or a chow chow? Who knows.
Diego’s face goes red and he looks away. “Um, yeah.”
“Then you’ll definitely want a filter that also helps with animal hair,” I scroll a bit and select a few for him to choose from. “Here, sit here.” He obediently sits and looks at the options while I go back out to the living room and use the leaf blower to remove the fur all over the ground. Once it’s on the balcony, I take the puffs by the handful and toss them over the ledge. All better.
Now his living room. Still a clawed mess, but… hey, I could fix it. A bit of caulk or spackling compound there, then sand and add primer and paint… maybe it's for the best that the landlord didn’t come to replace the filter.
Diego emerges from his office moments later. “Um… thanks, for all your help.” He bites his lip, and shifts his weight from leg to leg.
“Sure, happy to help,” I smile back. “And, uh, sorry about the noodles.”
He shakes his head. “It's alright. You’ve more than paid me back for that.” He looks away for a moment, then extends his hand. “Would you, um, be willing to trade phone numbers? You seem to know a lot more about home stuff than I do.”
I can’t help the huge smile that crosses my face. “Sure!” I take his phone and enter my contact information. Always good to get my neighbor’s contact info. Plus! This means I can ask him when the dog is next coming.
He sends me a text and I confirm I got it. I was going to put his full name, but then I saw he put me as ‘Sky Noodle Girl’ in his phone, so I put him as ‘Doggie Diego’, which he rolled his eyes at, still smiling.
I head back up the stairs and enter my own apartment. My still very empty and not unpacked apartment. Fuck. And I have homework. Double fuck.
And I didn’t even finish my noodles!
…
I’ve been here for two days and three nights and my shit shack is already testing my patience. Well, the landlord is.
“My foot went through one of the stairs,” I try to say as cordially as I can. The fresh scratch from the broken wood stings, a bit of blood trickling out.
The landlord doesn’t even look at me, opting instead to scroll on his phone. “And?”
“It's a safety hazard,” I manage to say through gritted teeth.
He shrugs. “Not my problem. I live in the basement.”
This motherfucker-
“If it bothers you that much, go fix it yourself,” his game jingles happily, and he sneers. “Not that you can.”
Once my skin clears up, I lose 10 pounds, fix those damn stairs, finish my homework, learn how to properly do eyeshadow, comb my hair and become mentally stable, it's over for this bastard.
Until then, he can go fuck himself on the broken pieces of wood that was the stairs while I actually do something about it.
One rage building session later, I’ve replaced all the stairs to the first floor.
I lay on the ground next to my new stairs, which still need to dry from the paint, properly zonked. Hyper-focusing it great to do things, but fuck, the exhaustion finally catches up to me, my body sore. Swallowing feels like sandpaper is trying to go down and my stomach growls angrily at me for forgetting its existence.
Two familiar faces appear in my view: my neighbor from the first night and Anna.
“What are you doing?” Anna asks. She’s in the exact same doll clothes as before, her blush still overwhelming her face, but at least she blinks at me now. Even if it does seem awkwardly forced.
“Laying on the ground,” I croak out.
“You sound thirsty,” she states. I nod. “Want me to get you water?”
“Please do,” I force a smile and Anna disappears from my sight. Weirdly, I don’t hear her footsteps. Must be one of those creepy kid things.
Well, it's just me and the neighbor from the first night.
“Would you like assistance in sitting up?” he asks with a smile. I nod and soon I’m sitting upright.
“Whew,” I hold my head, feeling the blood rush down. There’s a puff of heat on my neck, then… cold water splashes onto me.
“MOTHERFUuuuuuuuuudger. Fudger,” I manage to withhold from cussing, again, as I look up and see Anna with an empty glass, her arm through the railings.
“Bad, Nikolas,” she puffs. “Don’t touch the quiet door lady.”
I might have been splashed, but my neighbor, Nikolas, is soaked, his hooked nose and black hair dripping with water. He grimaces, but dries his face with a white handkerchief.
“He was just helping me up, Anna,” I try to reassure her, giving her a smile. Hey, at least she likes me. I’ll take my good neighbor points where I can. “I’m okay.”
“Yes, she’s quite fine,” Nikolas grumbles, and he glares at Anna. Which, uh, excuse me, is not a look to give a child. But it seems like this is a normal interaction for them, as she only further narrows her eyes at him.
All the outdoor lights flicker and I glance around. Are the shadows on the walls growing? Does the building seem… taller? A shiver runs down my spine and the hairs on the back of my neck shoot up. What the fuck? Man, I must be tired.
Nikolas sighs and lifts both his hands in a surrender position. “Message received, Anna.”
All of a sudden, everything is normal again. Anna nods and turns around, and I hear her steps this time as she walks away.
Now I level a look at Nikolas. “Don’t pick fights with kids, man. Not cool.”
He looks at me wide eyed, with one brow higher than the other. “Pardon?”
“You gave Anna a nasty glare there,” I shake my head. “That’s not cool, man. She’s just a kid. It's a lot better to explain to her why dumping water is unacceptable than glare and go quiet. Even with children, communication is key.”
His mouth opens slightly and he narrows his eyes as if trying to examine me closer. Then he shakes his head. “Fine.”
I nod. “Good.” There’s a short pause. “Hey, does the electricity falter like that often?”
“What?”
“Do the light flicker like that often? If it was just one of them, I’d think the bulb was dying but since it was all of them, there might be a problem with the building’s wiring,” I explain.
Nikolas looks like I just asked him if he had a foot fetish: thoroughly confused, disappointed and questioning his existence. “... What?”
Just as I’m about to ask him for the third time, Anna's voice suddenly comes from behind me. “Water.”
I jump slightly, but gratefully take the glass. “Thanks, kiddo.” I smile and ruffle her curly hair, which feels strangely like yarn. Huh, that’s cool. I wonder if that’s natural or not.
I down the water in and feel instantly refreshed, then I hand her the glass. “That hit the spot.”
Anna nods then parts her lips to show all of her teeth. Creepy, but I think that’s her attempt at a smile so I try not to flinch.
“Well,” I stand dusting sawdust off myself. “I think I should get some food and some rest.”
“What about your wound?” Nikolas says as he also stands.
“My what? Oh.” Right! The cut on my leg from when the stair broke earlier. It suddenly stings again, as if offended I forgot about it.
“It's fine. Just a scratch,” I laugh it off. I wonder how he knew I was injured? I have long pants on, so he couldn’t see it. Maybe my pant leg rolled up while I laid down. “I gotta put the tools back in the shed, but I’ll go straight home to clean it up afterwards.”
Nikolas and Anna both nod, Anna still showing all her teeth. He says something quietly to her, and the corners of her mouth lift into a proper -though slightly forced- smile.
But did I step on glass or something? It sounded like something cracked.
With nothing underneath my foot, I chalk it up to my overactive imagination and put the tools back in the shed. Once I leave, the stars are out and both Anna and Nikolas are gone. I head over to the stairs and I’m about to step on them, when I remember they still need to dry. Fuuuuuuuck.
I order Chinese delivery instead and eat on the ground next to the stairs. Once I’m done, I test the paint with my finger. Satisfied that it's dried, I go back to my apartment, shower and head to sleep in my bed for the first time.
As I drift off, I wonder how Anna and Nikolas got up and down the stairs without messing up the paint? Anna probably did creepy child magic or something and I imagine Nikolas parkouring up in his black suit, causing me to chuckle.
…
I was hoping to sleep in since I didn’t have class today, but a knock at my door wakes me from my slumber.
“Just five more minutes,” I groan. The knocking pauses, but comes back after a bit. Somehow, I drag myself out of the warm, soft, perfect bed and make my way to the front door, opening it a crack. “Yes?”
Nikolas stands there, under an umbrella for some reason, with his brow furrowed. He looks sunburnt, which might explain the umbrella. “You fix things, correct?”
“I mean, I guess?” Man, I should really start being paid for this. I’m too poor for free labor.
“Well,” he grimaces. “My roof has a hole.”
My eyes go wide and I stand taller. “Your roof has a what?”
“There is a hole in the roof, in my apartment,” he explains. “I tried to call the landlord, but…”
An annoyed sigh escapes me. “He said figure it out?”
Nikolas shakes his head. “No. He said he would get it fixed.”
“Well, that’s a new one,” I smirk. Damn bastard is finally doing his job.
“Yes, but,” Nikolas glares behind us, as if the landlord was there. “He said it could take several weeks.”
“WEEKS!?” I might have just woken someone else up with how loud I yelled.
Nikolas cringes but nods. “Yes, weeks.”
“It's about to be winter.”
“Yes.”
“There will be snow. And rain.”
“I’m aware.”
“And he can’t be bothered to fix it sooner?” I fume. Now that’s just fucked up. “I should report his ass to the police-”
“No!” Nikolas says quickly, and I blink. “He’s, uh,” Niklolas pauses and his eyes dart around, as if searching for words. “... A family friend? So, I don’t want to report him. I just want the problem fixed.”
There is a long pause. Oh, shit, I’m supposed to answer.
“Okay… I’ll try to fix your roof, but I need you to promise something.”
Nikolas frowns. “... Go on.”
“Be nicer to Anna,” I say simply.
He studies me for a moment then nods. “I can do that.”
I turn to go get changed, then face him again. “One more thing.”
“Yes?”
“Please pay for the materials. I’m so poor, man. I have $34.28 cents in my bank account, right now.”
He laughs. And I mean really laughs. Which, kind of rude to laugh at how poor I am, but I did say it in a half-joking way, so he can get a pass (I really do only have $34.28 though, so please buy the materials, Nikolas).
“That,” he chuckles. “I can do.”
A trip to the hardware store, a ladder, a shingle or two to Nikolas’ knee, and a saw later, the hole is patched. It's not perfect, but it's good enough until a proper roofer can come and fix it. I climb down the ladder and dust my hands.
“The hole appeared because the wood rotted. The shingles above the hole were missing, which explains how the water got there,” I explain to Nikolas. “So I cut out the rotten parts, created a frame, added new plywood, tar paper and shingles, and badabing, badaboom, it's done. And it only took me…” I look at my watch and sigh. “5 hours.”
Man, my time perception is absolutely fucked. I thought it had only been 2, maybe 3 hours.
Nikolas, who’s been under his umbrella while inside as well, exhales, his shoulders relaxing. “Much appreciated. Your handiwork is to be admired.”
My cheeks heat up at the compliment and I look away to hide my smile. “Aww, shucks. Well, thank you.”
“My dear, it is my pleasure,” he smiles, and I notice -like Diego- Nikolas also has pointy canine teeth, however, his are longer and more narrow than Diego’s. “Now, I can handle the clean up, you get some rest.”
He escorts me to his front door and as I’m about to leave, he asks me to wait, then pulls out a wad of cash, bound by those little strips of paper, and hands it to me. “For your hard work.”
“What?” I look at the money incredulously. “I can’t accept this.” Gosh that money looks good. If I take it, I could probably afford rent this month. Maybe even next month too! It's very tempting...
I shake my head, my inner self crying. “No need. You already paid for the materials. I was happy to help.” I can already see me groveling to my father for cash.
“I insist,” Nikolas says as takes my hand and places the money in it. “You’ve greatly helped me today. The first floor stairs have also never looked better.”
“Thank you,” I smile and tell myself not to spend it on video games. “I really appreciate it.”
We bid farewell, and when I get to my apartment, I count the cash. $100… $200… $300… $400… $500, oh my fucking gosh, its still going. $600… $700… $800. The final amount is $800.
Bro that’s enough for 2 months rent and then some! I can afford something other than noodles! I could buy meat.
