The Apartment Novels & Stories

, they looked each other in the eyes, got up in a hurry and crossed the street, rang the doorbell and a lady came out and said to them, "Do you want to know about the apartment? -Do you want to know about the apartment? -Yes, yes, ma'am, if you can show it to us. -Yes, of course, come in. As they walked to the apartment, the lady asked them: -Who is the apartment for? -For both of us, we are both going to rent it. -How nice, because it has two bedrooms, do you have children? -No, no, we both study and work. -Do you like to have parties? -No, we don't have enough for

This was a habit of his—to find something extracurricular whenever he was going through matters of the heart. The apartment was a modest two-bedroom located in a lively neighborhood, full of energy and color. The streets were lined with small shops, cafes, and bustling markets. Neighbors chatted on street corners, children played until dusk, and the scent of fresh coffee and baked goods mingled in the air. The apartment itself was on the third floor, with large windows that allowed the sunlight to pour in, highlighting every corner of the space.

Haru slides on behind me and we ride off without looking back. It took Haru and me a week to find the apartment, only a couple of blocks from the club compound. We both had a lot of money saved from the odd jobs we used to do when we first got out of our hell, so we were able to buy the place. The apartment was nice... spacious, and in a pretty good neighborhood. The walls were pure white, with dark hardwood floors throughout. Three bedrooms with walk-in closets, two bathrooms, a big living room, and an open kitchen. We also had a balcony with a large glass sliding door. It was on the fourth floor, and thankfully, the elevator w

The boys had been whispering excitedly to each other about their new home. When the elevator doors opened, Jennifer led us down a quiet hallway to apartment 15C. She unlocked the door and gestured for us to enter. I stepped inside and stopped. The apartment was gorgeous. Floor-to-ceiling windows filled the space with natural light. The living room was spacious, decorated in soft grays and whites. A full kitchen with granite countertops and stainless steel appliances. Hardwood floors that gleamed. "The master bedroom is through there," Jennifer pointed. "The two smaller bedrooms are down that hall. Perfect for the boys."

Owen's building appears thirty minutes later. Brick. Modest. A building made for teachers and nurses and people who work real jobs for real money. Not where I expected a federal agent to live. Even a suspended one. I park across the street. Watch the entrance. I cross the street before I can reconsider. His apartment is 3B. Third floor. No elevator. I take the stairs two at a time. The hallway smells like cooking and old carpet. Someone's playing music too loud. A baby cries somewhere behind closed doors.

My teammates hit me with a string of question marks when my hero stood idle and failed to hold the base. Frustrated, I quit the game and opened WhatsApp. The message was from Jacob Zeller, who lived downstairs from me. He was my roommate in college. There were four of us sharing a dorm, and we were pretty tight. While we were interning, we decided to job hunt together and moved into a cheaper apartment to lower our rent. Once everyone had a job, our hours were all over the place, so we each got an apartment to keep from getting in each other's way. We still grab a meal together from time to time.

"I just... I miss my room. My things. I want to be somewhere that feels like home." The three men exchanged glances, some silent communication passing between them. Finally, Lorenzo nodded. "Give us the address." --- The apartment was in Queens, a fourth-floor walkup in a building that had seen better days. As we climbed the stairs—no elevator, of course—I became increasingly self-conscious about what they were seeing. The hallway carpet was worn and stained. The walls needed a fresh coat of paint. You could hear arguments through doors, a baby crying somewhere above us, the smell of someone's cooking permeating everything.

Or dead. In grim silence, the trio made their way to the southwestern edge of town, to an upscale apartment building. It looked new, gleaming. They drove past a sleek new swimming pool that looked more like a tropical oasis than a man-made water hole. Multiple spas, jogging trail, Wi-Fi included. Definitely more upscale than Tyler could afford on a bouncer’s salary. Luc’s heart sank, and given Jack’s and Hunter’s grim faces, they had done the math as well. But they continued on until they reached apartment 314 and knocked.

There were only four units per floor, it showed how large each unit was. "This was my apartment, where we will live together," said Skandar after inviting Charisa to enter. Charisa, she stood in the middle of the apartment’s living room. The girl's round eyes surveyed a room that looked twice as large as her former house’s living room. Was this really called apartment? Was the apartment located in the tall building? Charisa asked herself. "You have had wonder-stricken enough, you should take a bath and change your dress. I'll be waiting for you here." Skandar immediately led his wife into their bed room, and closed the door from

“Of course. Ask away.” Feeling a bit relieved, I nod my head and turn on my tablet. Just then, the doors open, and a beautiful apartment is revealed. The apartment is large and spacious, with white columns, a high cathedral ceiling, and white, polished marble floors. The place has wall-to-wall ceiling to floor windows with white crown molding surrounding it. The place is gorgeous, but maybe I’m biased because I don’t think it’s as beautiful as Micah’s penthouse.