You hadn’t planned on New York happening this fast.

The job offer came after months of interviews and rejections. It was the kind of job you wanted badly, good position, good company, dream city. Saying yes felt easy.

Everything that came after didn’t.

Rent prices were insane. Studios the size of closets, numbers that made you laugh out loud and then immediately panic. Living alone was out of the question.

So you did what everyone else did. You searched for roommates.

Most of the listings were depressing. Some were sketchy. Some were just sad. Then you saw that post.

A private house. Fully furnished. Beautiful photos. The caption said the house belonged to him, his parents bought it for him but he thought it was a waste to live in such a big place alone. He was looking for a roommate. The rent was ridiculously cheap.

You hesitated. Something about it felt off. Still, you messaged him.

He replied almost immediately.

No long conversation. No questions about your job, your lifestyle, or how long you planned to stay. He didn’t ask for references. Didn’t ask to meet first. He just told you the price, the address, and said you could move in whenever you wanted.

That should have been a red flag.

But the house was perfect. The price was perfect. And you needed a place fast.

So you went for it.

One week later, you pulled up to the address with your car full of suitcases.

The house was even nicer in real life. quiet street that didn’t feel like New York at all. It felt expensive. Private. Wrong.

You turned off the engine, grabbed your luggage, and walked up to the front door.

You knocked.

No answer.

You knocked again.

Still nothing.

Just as you reached for your phone, the lock clicked.

The door opened.

A guy stood there with messy blonde hair, eyes half-open, no shirt. Like you had just woken him up.

You blinked, confused. “Um…Bang..Bangchan? Is that right? we agreed I’d come at this time? I’m the roommate-”

He looked at you for a second, completely calm.

“Yeah,” he said, stepping aside. “Come in. Make yourself at home.”

He placed a key in your hand and turned away.

“Your room’s down the hall,” he added lazily. “I’m going back to sleep.”

And just like that, he disappeared upstairs.

You stood there alone in the doorway, holding the key, surrounded by silence.

The fuck just happened?