Chapter Text
Central Park was a flourish of emerald in the afternoon sun. Jason watched as the trees waved gently in the breeze, grinned a little at the sight of a girl following her mother but making detours to try to catch pigeons, contented himself with watching the faintest glimmer of the summer sun off the water that he could see through the greenery. It was calming, and it was a far better view than the brick-and-window pattern he usually woke up to.
Then, something hit him between the eyes, so he blinked and looked down to see a french fry sitting inconspicuously on the table. He blinked again and looked up at an agitated Piper who had another fry at the ready.
“Were you even listening to me?” she asked, more accusation than actual question.
“Something about apartments and the internet?” he replied, sheepishness seeping into his tone.
She groaned in frustration and took it out on the fry by biting it in half. Jason responded by stuffing five into his mouth at once.
“Like I was saying before you went off to La La Land,” she started, her iPhone in her free hand and her thumb swiping against the screen. “There’s actually some affordable apartments in the area. Like, maybe half of what you’re paying now?”
He raised an eyebrow in suspicion. “And the deposits?”
Predictably, Piper went quiet and busied herself by taking a sip of her soda.
“Ah, therein lies the problem,” he said in his best New York-savvy voice. Funny, considering he was from California, but the city definitely grew on him. “It’s Manhattan. Deposits probably push the price up by a few hundred dollars. That and the kitchens are like the size of a coffin, Pipes.”
She didn’t glance up from her phone but her expression said it all; she was done with this conversation before they got to the restaurant. “Just because you’re attached to your cesspool of an apartment --”
“Bachelor pad,” he corrected.
“-- doesn’t mean you have to stay and rot in it while Leo goes off on his own. You’re not codependent on him,” she finished without missing a beat.
“When have I ever been codependent?” he asked, doing his best to look scandalized.
Piper didn’t say anything and continued to look over something on her phone. Right, done with this conversation. It had quintessentially been a part of their daily banter for nearly a month. Or really since Leo announced to everyone within screaming distance that yes, he had a girlfriend! A girlfriend with a really nice apartment in Queens, who also seemed too nice to possibly be real. After a fifth of whiskey and a rather painful admission to Piper that Jason was sure Leo was going to go off with Calypso and forget his roommate ever existed, he could sort of understand why she was done with it in the first place.
Suddenly, he found Piper’s phone dangerously close to his face, the screen blurry from proximity. He leaned his head back to see the familiar layout for an apartment ad.
“Look!” she stressed, twitching the phone closer to his face. Jason could feel his eyes begin to cross.
He took the phone from her and glanced over the ad. Pretty standard one bedroom apartment, post-war in design (that was a typical comment on most ads and Jason was yet to figure out why it was so important), a halfway decent kitchen, and laundry access. The photos showed an extremely average apartment, but glorified its juxtaposition to Central Park. Nothing amazing until...
“That rental fee...” he breathed, like he’d just seen the Holy Grail.
Compared to the apartments that tapdanced on the two-and-three thousand dollar line, the apartment was a bargain among bargains. The deposit was standard, which was a pleasant surprise.
“And you can get a cat!” Piper extolled, raising a french fry in celebration.
“Or small animal,” Jason tacked on, reading over the rest of the ad.
She rolled her eyes. “You’re not getting another lizard.”
“The lizard is Leo’s, technically,” Jason said, and then frowned. “There has to be something wrong with this place. It says it’s been on the market for two weeks. Someone would have to have snatched it up by now.”
“Why don’t you go over and have a look, then? It says you can call the agent for a tour.”
Jason was sure the hesitance was scrawled all over his face. Truth was, he liked the apartment he has now. Sure, the rent was steep and Leo was planning on moving to the Magical Girlfriend Palace™ in a month, but he’d lived there as long as he’d been in New York. Even with the questionable garlic smells that came from their freezer and a stove that clicked dangerously in the middle of the night, the apartment has just been home, which Jason inwardly recounted that he’d rarely had in the course of his life.
“Jason,” Piper called, snapping him out of his reverie. Her brow was furrowed, but the rest of her expression read outright concern and maybe a little empathy. “You need a new place. You know, somewhere to start over?” She said the last part carefully, like saying it was comparable to walking on eggshells.
He knew what she expected. Maybe a weak smile combined with a grimace, telling her that it was still a sensitive subject. However, he shrugged and gave her the best smile he could summon.
“I’ll go look at it,” he said. “I promise.”
He wasn’t deaf to her sigh of relief, but he stole a french fry anyway for compensation.
---
East 84th Street was relatively calm in the mid-morning, although Jason could still hear the sounds of traffic closeby. Standing in front of the apartment building in question, a simple tan-colored building with a black awning reading ‘171’ in stark white, there was something surreal about it. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he imagined it was the humid morning air, or the silvery sheet of clouds above him. The air just seemed strangely still, like this particular spot was frozen in time while the rest of New York City bustled with fast-paced commuters. Even when a bicycler went by, followed by a taxi cab, it didn’t permeate the atmosphere. Instead, it just sent the briefest of chills up Jason’s spine, which he quickly shook off.
The lobby was air-conditioned to fight off the oncoming summer, and Jason glanced around to look for the guide. An elderly doorman was sitting behind a desk, reading some sort of crime novel. A young girl sat on a bench between two potted ferns, her legs folded over one another primly while she checked her phone with mild interest. Neither of them looked like they were ready to jump up and give him a tour.
Just then, the door opened behind him and Jason felt a short-lived wave of humidity rolling into the room. A young man hurried in, grin just edging on bashful, his entire being just oozing dishevelment. Without sparing a look around the room, he crossed the space between the door and Jason, his hand already outstretched.
“Jason Grace?” the man asked hopefully.
Jason nodded and returned the shake. “Travis Stoll, right?”
“That’d be me!” Travis replied with a bright smile. “Real estate agent extraordinaire.” The way he said it made him sound more like a showman at a circus rather than an agent.
Regardless, Travis herded him toward the elevator, already bursting right into conversation before the doors opened. “Believe me, this apartment is great,” he said, allowing Jason to go first when the elevator finally arrived. “Really good views, affordable utilities, cupboard space, and a pool! What more could you ask for?”
The elevator went to the fifth floor and Travis practically skipped out of it, like the very prospect of Jason’s interest delighted him. “Trash days are Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Recyclables on Monday. You live in Manhattan right now, yeah?” He didn’t give Jason time to respond. “Nothing you’re not used to! Presort your recyclables and all that. Landlord’s got it all with the lease information.”
They walked down the hallway and Jason cringed a little at the odor of stale cigarettes. Travis, on the other hand, took in a deep breath like he was inhaling pure mountain air. “Ahhh,” he sighed. “L’eau du New York apartment! Love it.”
“How much are other apartments in the building?” Jason finally asked as Travis reached into his messenger bag to find the keys.
“A little more than this one, I’ll be honest,” Travis replied easily. He glanced up once with a sunny smile like he was in a commercial. “Just some issues with renovation and a bed bug scare from last year.”
Jason found himself doubting the validity of it, but didn’t say anything.
They reached a door with brass-colored numbers reading 513. To Jason’s minute relief, there was no blood dripping off the wood or anything that would denote that a mass murder happened in the apartment. Travis fiddled with the lock for a moment (did he even have a key?) and the door opened. Again, Travis let Jason in first like he was a VIP.
It was an even bigger relief to see that the apartment was painfully normal. The walls were the same off-white as practically every apartment Jason had ever set foot in. There was the soft hum of a functional (!!!) refrigerator, the chirping of birds just outside a window that looked out onto the street, and the muted sound of a game show from somewhere above them. What furniture remained was spartan at best, with a plain blue IKEA-type couch and ottoman and a glass-topped coffee table with a Yankee candle christening it. Other than that, it looked as minimalist as it could possibly get.
“No water leaks,” Travis added, walking around the room in a wide circle. “Windows just got resealed back in March, new wiring a year ago, new hardwood flooring --”
“I thought you said there were renovation problems?”
If Jason hadn’t been watching for it, he wouldn’t have seen the briefest of shadows pass over Travis’ face. However, it was gone as quickly as it came and the 500-watt smile was back in place.
“Yeah, everything from the first floor to the eighth got new plumbing and drywall work done. There’s a small block of apartments on the third and fifth that aren’t. Y’know, grumpy tenants, bad contracting. Standard issues.” Travis explained it like it was the most natural thing in the world, but the half a second of hesitation was enough to leave a sour taste in Jason’s mouth.
The thing was, it was a nice apartment. One quick jaunt around the place was enough to prove that. Like Travis said, there were no visible leaks and no drafts coming in. Everything had that residual surreal calm like Jason felt outside. The place was spotless and had an open-air atmosphere due to wide-set windows facing the street. Anyone with half a brain and a paycheck like Jason’s would have jumped at a chance like this.
But there was something else. Something so microscopically imperceptible that Jason thought it might have just been doubt gnawing at the back of his mind. The apartment felt off-kilter somehow, like it had been placed on an incline that could only be felt if you had been on a flat surface long enough.
Another voice popped into his mind, sounding suspiciously similar to Piper. It’s just because you’re attached to the cesspool. Not too off base, he guessed. Compared to Leo’s apartment, it was like an empty room placed beside a landfill. There were no posters covering the walls like wallpaper, no Festus the Bearded Dragon relaxing on his sunning rock, no TV and game system blasting out Call of Duty at an impossible volume level. It was quiet and clean, and Jason convinced himself that it was the only thing making him feel weird.
“There’s no hidden fees, right?”
“Right,” Travis affirmed. “It’s all like it said on the ad.”
His better judgement screamed for him to reconsider. There’s something wrong with this place, a voice said, and it wasn’t Piper this time. It was a different voice that Jason had never heard before. Another chill raced up his spine and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, but he was already shaking hands with Travis.
Jason couldn’t ignore that Travis looked like he’d being relieved of an enormous burden