First of Jesse IV

The next day, I was awakened by the doorbell. I stood up in my bed, and when I opened the door, I saw the landlady with teary eyes.

"Mister, I am sorry, but this land was bought by a businessman, and I can't refuse him because I have a big debt to him. So please pack your things and find another place. Also, here is your supposed-to-be rent." She gave me back my money and left me alone.

I had no choice but to pack up my things. I searched for a place that I could rent, and I found an apartment nearby. I called a truck to help me pick up my things and started transferring to another place.

Fast forward, and I was done unpacking my things. I was now arranging my belongings when my phone buzzed again. It was Matthew once again.

"Hey, Jesse, you transferred to another apartment?" he asked.

"Yeah," I answered.

"Why?" he wondered.

"The landlady told me that she sold the land, and she asked me to pack my things," I explained.

"Okay, then tell me your new address," he said, and I told him.

Not half an hour later, Matthew was already there. He helped me arrange my things, and it was afternoon when we finished our work.

"Aren't you busy? And you helped me here?" I asked him while arranging a flower vase.

"Not really, our shoot was canceled because the director was sick," he explained. He was now sitting on the sofa.

I was about to ask him if he wanted some food when his phone rang.

"Wait a second," he excused himself and answered the call.

"Yeah... uh huh? Okay... okay, I'll go now, stop yelling!" he yelled, and he ended the call.

"What is it?" I asked him.

"They're telling me to get back to work. I'll go now, see you later!" he said and left my apartment.

Brrr~~~

I heard my stomach growling, so I decided to buy food from the market.

I went out without changing my clothes. I was hungry, and no one could stop me from buying! I laughed at myself; what a dramatic line.

I saw a bakery selling cheesecake. I love cheese! So, I entered the bakery and went straight to the seller.

"What is your order, cutie?" she said.

"Sorry, Miss, but please don't call me cute. I'll have one cheesecake, please," I said rudely. I hated it when someone called me that.

"Oh, kid, be polite to me, you know," she said, but she was still smiling.

"I am already twenty-five, so stop calling me that!" I almost yelled at her.

"Y-you are 25 years old?" she said, not believing it.

"Yeah," I answered her bluntly.

"So, you are older than me. I am 23 years old, but I look like a 30-year-old woman!" she exclaimed.

She was speechless and gave me my cake. I gave her my money, and she gave back my change without a word. Before I exited the bakery, I heard her say, "What a cute adult." Darn it, cursed that damn word. Couldn't they just say handsome?

I was walking back home when I bumped into someone. Luckily, I didn't fall, and my cake was secure in my arms, but the person I bumped into...

"Hey, are you okay?" I asked her. She was a girl wearing a school uniform, and I bet she was in high school.

"I am fine," she said. I offered my hand, and she grabbed it because she sat on her butt when we bumped

 into each other.

"I-uh, I am sorry!" she apologized, and she was looking down, probably embarrassed. But I saw a red color on her face. Young ladies nowadays.

"No, don't worry about it. Are you really okay? You fell down just now," I asked again.

"No, I'm sure I am fine," she reassured me.

"Next time, be careful. A young lady like you isn't supposed to run like that," I said.

She looked at me confused. Uh, why?

"Can I know how old you are?" she asked.

"Why do you want to know?" Kids these days. Why are they always asking about age?

"Well, because you are talking like an old guy. You have the same age as me, right?" she asked again. What the! Do I really look young?

"Sorry for being a 25-year-old guy, okay?" I said.

She was shocked, and it was showing on her face. I couldn't believe that this was literally happening.

"No way! You look too cute for being 25 years old," she said, pointing at me dramatically.

"Yeah, yeah, bye, young lady," I said before walking past her.

How many times in my life do I have to hear that? What the heck is wrong with their eyes? I hate being called cute! No one will respect me because of this!

I was ranting to myself when I finally reached the building of my apartment. I used the stairs because my apartment was located not too high on the ground floor, and someone was using the elevator.

When I reached my floor, I saw a guy rummaging in his bag, probably searching for his keys. I didn't see his face, but I still approached him. He was my neighbor, anyway.

"Good afternoon, I'm your new neighbor here. I'm..." but I immediately stopped mid-sentence when this guy lifted his face.

It was him.