Chapter Text
CHAPTER ONE:::
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IZA's POV::
I get evicted from my apartment in five days, and my desperation to find someplace else to live is growing thicker and thicker. All of my main belongings have already been moved from the building, and into temporary storage until I can find an official place to stay. This feels like my last chance-- the last breath of air I’ll be able to take before plunging into the all-thrown chaos of my eviction.
There are still a few things I can do before last resort, though. Such as right now-- I’m in my car, driving on my way to meet with someone who posted an ad in the paper. A roommate position, something I’m running to look into and see if it’ll be a good fit. When I found the ad in the paper, there was a name and number attached, for anyone maybe interested in landing the extra room.
I took it down on a note and called later, when I was rummaging around through my packed shoes for a supply check-- making sure that everything was there. A chipper guy named ‘Edd’ picked up the phone, and we discussed the formal details of the position. The extra room was still open, and was apparently spacious enough. (Even though that’s what they all say.)
I also learned over the phone that there are already some other people that are on the ‘roommates’ deal. A total of four people already live in the house, which honestly sounds crammed. However, if I get my own room, I don’t think I’ll have much to complain about. Beggars can’t be choosers, afterall. I’m willing to at least visit today, and have a look around. Get a somewhat feel for the place.
I drive around the block, cruising through a neighbourhood. It’s actually quite a nice street. Roomy, and green yards, at least. I wonder what these neighbours are like. I find the right address at last-- somethin’ somethin’, Durdam Lane. Parking on the side of the street, I take my phone and redial the number, as to give a formal heads up to let that Edd fellow know I’m outside. I think it’d just be rude to ring the doorbell unannounced-- plus it might give the wrong impression concerning the room. A bit too eager.
I press the dial, and he picks up after two rings.
“Hello?”
“Yes, this is Iza calling again. We talked over the phone two nights ago about your ad in the paper?”
His tone lightens, “Oh, yeah. I remember. Are you still planning to come around today and have a tour of the room and house?”
I chuckle, “Uh, yes! I’m parked outside in my car. I thought to call and tell you before coming up to the door.”
“I see!” The curtains peek back from the front windows, a man clanned in the colour green smiles from behind the glass, “You can come up now, if you’d like. I’ll come to the door in just a moment.”
“Sounds good! Talk to you in a moment, then,”
“Alright,”
There’s a click. The call ends.
I tuck my phone away into my purse and sit straight in the driver's seat. Taking in a long, deep breath, I grip my hands around the wheel. I try to focus on the task at hand, making small mental notes on things to watch for in the house. Red flags and green flags alike.
Once I have everything sorted and my shit together, I nod to myself, and let go of the wheel. I notice my knuckles returning to colour, from their gripped white pale, formed due to holding on too tight. As I dip out of the car, I fix my hair briefly-- walking up the front of the yard. The door opens on cue, right as I reach the house. A man who is bigger than me--in every aspect of the word, respectfully-- greets me at the door. The same man from the window, but now I see that the sore-green is a part of the cosy looking hoodie he wears. His hair is dark brown, and his height over me is intimidating-- but he seems friendly enough upon inspection.
“Iza?” He asks, as more of a formality.
I smile politely and nod, “Yes! I take it that you’re Edd?”
He opens the door wide, allowing me in as he nods. I come inside and am instantly greeted by an open room / combo hallway-- the hallway acting to divide the kitchen and living room. The hall leads further into the house as well, but in this area, it’s a very big, roomy feeling that stays.
“Everyone else is out right now,” Edd mentions, “If we decide that you like the room though, I’m sure you’d meet the others in no time at all.”
“No worries,” I click, standing awkwardly beside a plant and the windows.
The living room is assorted with a red couch, and a lazy-recliner that’s grey and worn. A coffee table in the centre, on the brown-blue striped rug, and a medium-sized television against the far wall. A variety of pictures are hung up on the walls, from people, to vacation pictures, and some art doodles, it looks like.
The kitchen leads into the hall with an archway. Blue walls, and tiled black and white floors. The fridge leans up against the far left corner, with letter magnets spelling out on the freezer door ‘BUY MORE COLA’. The counters are crammed with appliances on a stressful amount of counter space. Two toasters, a fancy-looking blender, a waffle maker, and then some.
I slightly jump when I feel something brushing against my leg. I look down and meet the dark-pearly eyes of a grey tabby cat. I instantly melt into their stare, kneeling down to give a scratch behind the ears.
Edd laughs softly, “Sorry, that’s Ringo. She likes new people.”
I brush it off as no bother, happy to receive the attention from such a nice cat. I don’t meet a lot of friendly cats in general, so this is a nice little moment for me, as she mewls sharply.
“Do you want a tour of the house first, or would you rather start with seeing the room?”
“Can we start with the room?” I ask, standing back onto my feet.
“Of course,”
I follow Edd as he motions towards down the hall. We pass a set of stairs going up to the second floor. Edd mentions it briefly as we continue walking,
“Matt has all of upstairs as his room. We had to move him up there with all his crap, so now his old room is the one we’re renting out.”
I hum, acknowledging the house’s history as though it’s super important. It’s not, but it’s better than leaving the note in silence. At the end of the hall, the room on the left, is the one that Edd leads me into. Inside, it’s currently empty. A broad window on one of the four walls. The walls, which are painted a cream-orange-sherbet, kind of colour. It’s not hideous, but I would definitely change it after a few months of toleration.
There’s a closet that opens with a sliding door-- one of those doors on railed hinges. The kind that gets stuck, and can fill one with rage if the wheels don’t fix back on. Inside the closet is a decent amount of space though. I count three outlet spots, which is something I approve of with a small nod and smile. The floor is hardwood, something I can absolutely work with. The locks on the window are old, but it looks like they’re still in good condition. They still slide pretty well, from locked to unlocked.
“What do you think?” Edd asks me, leaning up against the doorframe.
I turn to him, about to say that I like the room, next to wonder about rent pitches. When I open my mouth, though, another voice that doesn’t belong to either of us cuts me off.
“Edd!” It’s a shout from someplace else in the house.
Edd turns around and peers down the hall. I can hear the sound of a door shutting -- almost slammed into its hinges, from the way it bangs against the wall across the house. Heavy footsteps came down the hall towards us, accompanied by a strong tone, sharing cross words.
“I’ve already said it a thousand times! I don’t care HOW we get it done, but we need someone to look at the engine in the car. It’s getting worse and one of these days, it’s going to just explode-- or something.”
“Can we talk about this later, Tom?” Edd pleads softly.
Their chemistry kicks off right away, making me admittedly curious. My need to know gets the better of me as the light bickering continues in the hall. I step out into the hall and appear at Edd’s side-- drastically noticeable due to the difference between us.
This Tom fellow. The first things I notice step upfront simultaneously. The blue hoodie he wears makes me wonder if everyone in the house always wears a hoodie-- or if it’s just coincidence. The absolute absorption of his eyes, capture my fix second. Total abysmal -- no pupils, all black.
His hair-- a light, dirty-dust kind of brown. Spiky, but gelled up in a way that screams reminiscence of the early 2000s. (I actually like that style.) He has an eyebrow piercing, and that intrigues me. The guy’s outfit is very comfort-over-casual. Blue hoodie, dark sweats with a white stripe going down the legs on the side, and B&W chequered vans.
This Tom-fellow’s eyes land on me, choking on the air of whatever he was going to say next, cutting himself off. His expression warps into one of confusion, and displeasure.
“Who’s this?” He asks, more so looking for an answer from Edd.
Edd scoffs sharply, in a small amount. I note his posture lacking as Edd rubs the temples on either side of his head. Tom’s gaze never leaves me.
“This is Iza, Tom. The lady who called about Matt’s room a few nights ago-- remember?”
Tom squints, still staring at me, trying to recall.
“No,” He says flatly.
I start to feel intimidated under his constant stare. It dawns on me that if he weren’t slouching, Tom would be even taller than Edd. My short height makes me feel so small in their company, smashing into me all in one go.
“Well,” Edd continues, “Regardless, she’s here today to have a look around. See if the house and room are good for her.”
I smile nervously, hoping that my anxiousness isn’t shining too much through my grin. I give a half-efforted wave to Tom and nod my head in greeting.
“Nice to meet you,” I slump.
“Sure.” He grunts.
Tom sighs, running his fingers through his hair in defeat. He turns sharply on his heels and goes to the bedroom directly across the hall. He opens the door and only glances back at me once, a gaze cast over his shoulder.
To my surprise, he doesn’t say anything else. The final look he gives me is almost analytical. As though he’s sizing me up, looking for reasons to distrust me. Yeah, because this definitely feels like an apartment scam. The door to his room shuts when I’m momentarily zoned out, the sound of it closing enough to bring me back to the present. Edd sighs, nudging me gently in the shoulder with his arm.
“Sorry about him. He can be a handful sometimes, but I promise he usually means well.”
“Not a problem. I wasn’t offended or hurt at all. I grew up with a lot of siblings, so it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
Edd hums, gesturing to the room again.
“So, what’d you think?”
I hesitate, scanning the room over again. I pause for a long moment, sketching out a room plan very quickly in my head. Place for bed, dresser, mirror, and everything else-- trinkets to tools and all.
I grin, perking my hands on my hips, “What’s the joined rent like?”
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