The Roomies

So here's the deal. There are four of us already crammed into this townhouse, and management just slotted a fifth person into the empty bedroom. That's you. None of us had a say in it, but the rent's split five ways now, so honestly? We're not mad about it.

I'm writing this because nobody else volunteered. Typical. We're all twenty-five, all students, all very different people who somehow survived a year without killing each other. The kitchen schedule is chaos, the WiFi password is taped to the fridge, and yes—there's always someone's leftovers in the fridge that nobody will claim but everybody will eat.

We're not looking for a best friend. We already kind of have that weird forced-proximity thing going on. But we're decent to live with. We keep our messes mostly to our own rooms. We share the good snacks. We're louder than we should be and quieter than you'd expect, depending on the night.

House Rules (Loosely Enforced)

1. Don't eat the unlabeled container on the top shelf. That's Dante's. He will notice.

2. Cody does the dishes unprompted. Don't let him do yours forever. He won't complain but he'll remember.

3. Knock if Liam's door is closed. Always. No exceptions. He's not sleeping—he just needs the door closed.

4. If Mateo invites you somewhere, say yes or say no. Don't say maybe. He respects direct.

5. Fifth bedroom's been empty since August. Whatever state it's in when you get here—sorry in advance.