Chapter 2: People say that all you need is a “good” friend. (Haze's POV)

People call me Haze. It's not my real name, but I've never bothered to correct them. This story isn't about me anyway—it's about my annoying roommate.

It all started three months ago when I was waiting in the lobby of a five-star hotel for my friend, who takes forever to get ready. The hotel was one of the finest in the city, and my friend, Ren insisted on staying there because they offered a spa room in their presidential suite. As I was waiting, I grabbed one of the newspapers from the counter.

The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted from a nearby café, and the cool marble floors felt refreshing beneath my feet. I rarely read newspapers, but I had nothing better to do while I waited for my friend to go shopping with me. Sinking into a plush armchair, I unfolded the paper and relished the soft rustle of the pages as I flipped through the sections.

Suddenly a group of tourists began to gather in the lobby, waiting for their tour guide. I'm not fond of crowded places, which is why I prefer to drive or walk instead of taking the subway. When they left to start their busy touring day, I continued to read the newspaper and stumbled upon an interesting short story about a traveler falling in love with a small-town bakery girl. The story was like a well-worn comforter, familiar and comforting despite its predictability.

As I reached the end of the story, I saw an ad that read, "Searching for a roommate who can give me inspiration." At first, I thought it was strange for someone to ask for inspiration from a roommate, but I didn't dwell on it since Ren was finally emerging from the elevator, looking stunning in his well-chosen clothes. I stood up to greet him, but he seemed more interested in the fact that I was reading the newspaper. He grabbed the paper, saw the ad, and gave me a smug grin. I could tell he was up to no good.

After some exhausting shopping, I collapsed into bed as soon as I got home and slept like a log. The next morning, I was rudely awakened by a persistent knocking on my door. The sound was like a sledgehammer pounding inside my head, and I groaned as I dragged myself out of bed. I stumbled to the door, my head still foggy from oversleeping, and yanked it open.

To my surprise, there was a man standing outside, holding a suitcase and a backpack, along with a newspaper and some kind of note with numbers on it. He looked up at me expectantly and asked, "Is this the house of Miss Haze?"

I rubbed my tired eyes and squinted at him, wondering who he was and how he had managed to get past the exclusive security measures of this apartment. "Yes, I'm Haze," I mumbled, trying to shake off the sleepiness.

"Oh, good," he said with a relieved smile. "I can't believe you actually let me live here. It will really help with my writing. I'm writing about celebrities and wealthy people's lives..."

I interrupted him mid-sentence, my confusion turning to alarm. "Wait, what did you just say?"

He looked taken aback by my sudden outburst. "You are Miss Haze, right? The one who called me about my ad in the newspaper?"

And, then it hit me like a ton of bricks. I remembered the strange ad I had seen in the hotel lobby's newspaper yesterday, and the smug grin on Ren's face when he had noticed me reading it. It was all starting to make sense now.

I facepalmed when I realized that this poor guy, a writer, was the next target of Ren's tool for teasing me. But that's a story for another time. Right now, I needed to do something about this writer who brought his suitcase with him. He cleared his throat to remind me that he was still there.

"Oh, sorry, it will be a long talk. You better come inside and have something to drink," I said, leading him into my apartment. It was quite spacious, with three bedrooms, one office, two bathrooms, a kitchen, and a reading space in the loft above the living room. Each bedroom had a walk-in wardrobe, and one of them was filled with clothes Ren made for me. I wanted to make it clear to the writer that in case if he were to live here, there won't be any problem with me. I just needed a quiet environment to focus on my work and I guess writers also need a quiet environment too, right?

I told the writer to settle down and went to the kitchen to grab some drinks. All I had was water, so I hoped he wasn't a picky person. I offered him a bottle of water and thought about what I would say to him. After he took a sip of water, he looked around nervously. Then, at the same time, we both said, “So?”, “So…”. I was shocked and then tried to calm myself down. When I was about to say something, he beat me to it.

“Seems like I’m not welcome here, maybe I got the wrong Miss Haze or something,” he said. He got the wrong idea when I was just thinking about how to explain this situation without it being weird because it’s a really weird situation to find yourself in, especially after you've just woken up. I smiled a little and started talking.

“It’s not like that, Mr. Writer. I mean, you haven’t introduced yourself yet. Please try to understand. I wasn’t planning to get a roommate until this morning, but it seems like I have no choice but to invite you into my apartment. You can live in the spare bedroom on the left down the hallway. I never use it, so it’s even better for the room, I think…”

I immediately understood he wasn’t expecting this. After some time, he finally said a word, “Thank you. I really thought you were going to throw me out after I finished my bottle of water,” he laughed a little. “But why did you let me live here? It seems like until now, you weren’t aware of this, but you're accepting it really well.”

He thinks I'm accepting this really well, how cute of him to think that. Of course, I’m not an unreasonable person. I won’t vent my fury on an innocent person who just happens to be involved in my dear evil friend’s special prank. Oh, I really have a best friend in the world. I laughed to myself.

“Yeah, you can say that. I’m accepting this because I know who is behind this, and he will pay for this, Oh I have such a good friend” I said. He was taken aback a little; seems like I didn’t manage to suppress my dark aura. Besides that, I remembered he still hadn't introduced himself to me.

“It’s nothing that you should worry about. It’s just between me and my friend. We sometimes challenge each other. Anyway, let’s introduce ourselves properly. You can call me Haze. Everyone does that. I usually work from home, so I need a quiet environment. I reckon you must need an office table for your writing, right? Since there is only one office room, and all my work stuff is there, we have to settle you down here in the living room. There is one small corner where you can actually put a desk, and we can reform a little. There are two bathrooms, so you can use one on your side of the room. The house cleaner comes three times a week. If there is something you don’t understand or you have a question, you can ask, but never interrupt me during my work. That’s all for now.”

He was listening intently. “I’m sorry. Let me introduce myself properly. I’m Richard Carter. You can call me Richard. As you can see, I’m a writer, and I came here because of your friend, if I'm assuming right, who called me and said wanted a roommate. Thanks for all your hospitality. Truth is, I really didn’t expect this. You could say I was prepared to be thrown out of the apartment the moment I saw this apartment from the outside. I was only able to pass security because of the code your friend gave me,” he said and showed me the note he was holding with the newspaper.

I gave one to my friend because whenever I gave him a security card, he would lose it almost instantly. So, I made a code for him and asked the security guards to let in those who had this code. "So, this is how he wants to use the code he never actually had a chance to use," I chuckled. He looked at me with a questioning expression. I said, "Never mind, let me show you your room. I wasn't expecting someone, so it might look a little bit bland." Then, I led him to the vacant room that had been unoccupied for a while. After I left Richard in his room to settle down, I went to the bathroom for a shower.

To my surprise, I still couldn't believe I had gotten myself a roommate just because I accidentally read that ad. As I felt hungry after my shower, I was planning to order something to eat, but a delicious aroma caught my attention from the kitchen. I went there and saw a man wearing an apron, cooking. I cleared my throat to let him know I was there.

He looked at me and said, "I hope you don't mind, Miss Haze. I saw there was some broccoli in the fridge, and I thought you hadn't had your breakfast yet. It's just some broccoli soup." I started to think that having a roommate wasn't such a bad idea after all. "I didn't know there was something in the fridge. I've been very busy lately and forgot to buy groceries. By the way, just call me Haze. No need to use honorifics since it seems like we are around the same age." "Okay, Haze. Have a seat. It's ready," he invited me to the kitchen counter, and as I sat down, he placed a bowl of soup in front of me.

"It's delicious," I said after tasting the soup. "It's nothing. I cook every day. It's much cheaper this way," he replied. I decided to have a conversation with Richard about how this living together situation would work out. After our late breakfast, I invited him to the living room to discuss it. "I understand that this is a unique situation, Richard. Since we're going to be living together for a while, would you like to share with me what's going on with you? It seems like you're dealing with some challenges," I asked him.