The apartment was dimly lit and there was a moistness in the air. Summer in New York City was known for its humidity, but inside of their apartment was something else. It was more like a creature’s lair, and its occupant didn’t care what the outside world thought of its way of life. There were empty cans of Mountain Dew and Pepsi spread out all across the maple wood flooring, and there were at least half as many empty cups of instant ramen. On the counter, the couch, and even in the bathroom there were paper bags and empty packages of every fast food joint in a 2-mile radius. The occupant clearly didn’t show any particular favoritism towards McDonald’s, Taco Bell, KFC, or any other company that made greasy, overprocessed food. In the sink was at least 6 days’ worth of dirty dishes. Also spread across the floor was the occupant’s dirty clothes. Sweat-soaked socks and underpants, shirts that had faintly turned yellow from being worn for several days. This person was clearly no fan of laundry.
Despite the lack of housekeeping, the occupant also had an evident love or merchandise, particularly for anime and video games. Posters and figurines were scattered across the apartment, across dusty shelves and held up by sticky tape. Hello Kitty, Pokemon, My Hero Academia, Tokyo Ghoul. This might have been Brooklyn, but it might as well have been the bedroom of a teenager from Tokyo.
The occupant of this filthy apartment was Michelle. She was 25 years old, unemployed, never attended college, and could only somehow keep up the rent due to the charity of her wealthy parents. She had very few friends outside of those that she played video games with online. Her hygiene left a lot to be desired, and due to a steady flow of junk food she had developed a somewhat of a belly, and was usually very lethargic. Although it was hardly special, or even a skill, but Michelle took pride in the fact that she rarely wore pants and would only do so when it was necessary. Typically, Michelle would lounge around the house wearing only her underwear and a pop-culture t-shirt of some kind.
Michelle didn’t have any enemies, but there were certainly people in her life that she wouldn’t mind exacting revenge on for being toxic to her. One person in particular was her landlord, a 47-year-old man named Oliver. He owned Michelle’s apartment and was making thousands of dollars a month through his investment property portfolio. The man had a headstrong personality and was always looking for the next business opportunity. As a result of being chronically stressed out, Oliver had developed a heart problem, on which he was recently prescribed the latest drug on the market to alleviate it. As much as Michelle disliked Oliver, the feeling was totally mutual. Oliver was a high achiever and saw himself as deserving of every penny to his name (saying nothing of the enormous inheritance he received from his late parents). Michelle was tardy, routinely forgot to pay rent, lazy, and had some really gross behaviours. He thought of Michelle as nothing more than a loser, totally overlooking the fact that they both came from wealthy families that afforded them the chance to live more comfortably than everybody else.
Two days had passed and Oliver had still not seen Michelle’s monthly rent payment arrive in his account. This was the 4th incident of this since Michelle moved in one year ago. It wasn’t enough for him to accept this as chronic forgetfulness and irresponsibility on Michelle’s part. Oliver was the type to see this as a direct attack. He, as the landlord, was entitled to that money. Who did Michelle think she was defying someone of his status like this? He took it upon himself to pay Michelle a visit and give her a long overdue talk. He would ensure that Michelle would never be a problem ever again.
Oliver drove his fancy Bentley to Brooklyn and parked outside the apartment building. He had a big grin on his face knowing what he was about to deliver and how satisfied he would soon feel. He knocked aggressively on Michelle’s door and waited.
“I’m coming!” she shouted out in an annoyed tone.
Oliver had the feeling Michelle had been woken up by his knocking, and it was already past midday. Pathetic, he thought to himself. Michelle opened the door and her appearance proved his suspicions correct. She was wearing a baggy Miku shirt that was several sizes too big for her and covered in stains. It may as well of been a dress. Rubbing the crust from her eyes, Michelle got an unpleasant awakening when she was that it was Oliver.
“We need to talk, Michelle. Right now. I don’t give a shit what you might have been doing. Let me in now.”
“Hope you’ve been having a pleasant day too, Oliver” Michelle said sarcastically. “Please, don’t let me keep you waiting.” She motioned her arm and Oliver entered the apartment. Immediately he was struck by the apparent stuffiness of the air. It’s like the windows had not been opened in a week. He was even more offended by the state of the apartment. It looked even worse than ever!
Michelle cracked open her first can of Mountain Dew of the day. While most would go for a warm cup of coffee, she breathed Mountain Dew like a fish breathed water. She offered Oliver a seat on a couch covered in dirty clothes and plastic bags. He waved his hand dismissively, knowing what he had to say wouldn’t take long.
“I’m evicting you, Michelle.”