《From Square One [Romance, Modern Fantasy, Slice-of-live, DIY, Unconventional FFM Relationship]》 Prologue: It was hard for a Tel¡¯ani to slam the door. Not due to mass, sure the average Tel¡¯ani was smaller than the average human, but it was the long sinuous black tail that got in the way. Tel¡¯ani children learned early on not to slam doors. Slamming doors caused a lot of pain. This was a good thing for Nickolette as the Apartment¡¯s Entry door wasn¡¯t hers to accidentally break just because she was pissed. She marched forward with a bag full of her clothes, green eyes focused on the parking lot and totally trying to ignore the sound of the second story window opening. ¡°Hey Bitch!¡± Jenna screamed. Nickolette did not look back. She was going to walk out to her car and leave with as much dignity as she could muster. ¡°You forgot your stupid hoodie!¡± Well shit¡­ Nickolette turned just in time to see the balled up fabric of her favorite hoodie unfold mid-flight and drop into the hedges along the building. Jenna flashed Nickolette a double bird and slammed the window. Nickolette hung her head as she walked back to the building to fish her hoodie out of the bush. She threw the bag and hoodie in the back seat of the car and only after making sure her tail was securely inside the vehicle, slammed the car door with a satisfying thud. She angrily shoved the key into the ignition, an action that took a couple tries, and turned. The car made a horrific grinding noise. ¡°No, no, no, don¡¯t do this to me now.¡± She begged as she turned the key again and winced at the horrible sound. ¡°Please start, I need you to start.¡± She gave it to the count of ten and turned again. The car turned over and Nickolete rested her forehead on the steering wheel while patting the dashboard. ¡°There¡¯s a good girl.¡± Nickolette put the car in reverse, looked behind her, and pushed on the gas only to lurch forward and into the wooded post that separated the parking lot from the grass. Nickolete grit her teeth, put the car in actual reverse, looked behind her, and carefully pulled out. It was a two minute drive to the parking lot of the local department store where she parked in a distant spot and screamed her frustrations into the steering wheel. She then pulled out her cellphone and navigated to her brother¡¯s number.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. ¡°Hey. Jenna kicked me out again. Is your couch still available?¡± He wouldn¡¯t see it until his lunch break and she wasn¡¯t fond of being a burden on him and his wife, but she was homeless again. Nickolette prepared herself for a good cry, but spent the first minute or so beating on the steering wheel in anger. *** ¡°Move.¡± ¡°Move? I can''t move. I don''t have the money.¡± Sally gave Nickolette one of her ¡°don''t bullshit me¡± looks. ¡°Seriously? Just apply somewhere else. Devil''s Peak or something. You got a car. It''s that or stay in this shit hole.¡± ¡°It''s not that much of a shithole.¡± Nickolette protested. ¡°Oh yeah? Boss is coming, and someone thought it was a good idea to wear a skirt.¡± ¡°Oh shit.¡± Nickolette swore as she tried to push down the fabric of said garment. ¡°That''s not fair, I got kicked out this morning.¡± ¡°Mmmhmmm.¡± Said Sally. ¡°Nikki, babe.¡± Said Carl. ¡°Not your babe.¡± Nickolette said, putting a little annoyed heat in her tone. ¡°I''d like everything off the top shelf today.¡± ¡°And you¡¯re going to hold the ladder.¡± ¡°Safety first.¡± Carl sang as he wandered past. ¡°This is sexual harassment.¡± ¡°Take it up with HR.¡± Carl, the entire humanoid resources department, called back. ¡°I hate him.¡± Nickolette said. ¡°Use your brother as a mailing address, get a gym membership for a shower, live in your car for a couple weeks. Or stay here and deal with this shit.¡± Nickolette frowned. ¡°Hey! Nikki! You coming?¡± *** Nickolette was stuck at a stoplight in Devil''s Peak when she noticed a guy at the entrance road that lead to the supercenter, the building supply store, and a strip mall. He was holding a sign that started with ¡°Starting over. Trying to get back on my feet. Need money or¡­¡± The light turned green and Nickolette stopped reading and started driving. ¡°At least I''m not that guy.¡± 01 Day 001 Starting over. Trying to get back on my feet. Need money or¡­ Some people laughed. That was fine. Others handed the homeless man cash. Which was also fine. One guy tossed a rather nice quality pooper scooper at Jake while laughing as if it was the greatest joke in the world. He seemed a bit off, but that was one less thing to buy. When Jake figured he had enough cash to buy the rest of what he needed, he wandered down the hill to the building supply store and went shopping. Jake wandered down the street just off Main until he came to the first house with a fenced off yard and a large dog. The place needed some work. It must have been old because the siding was falling apart and they didn''t make 12 inch Masonite siding anymore. He set his bucket of supplies down and knocked on the front door. The dog in the backyard barked wildly, but there was no sound of movement from inside. Jay shrugged to himself and made his way to the next fenced off yard. *** ¡°Hi. My name¡¯s Jake Carter. I''m offering dog poop clean up for $50 a yard today. Would you be interested?¡± The older woman stared at him for an awkwardly long time before saying ¡°no¡± and shutting the door in his face. ¡°Where is the rich side of town?¡± Jake asked himself as he picked up his bucket and headed down the street. At the intersection he looked up the hill. It would be harder walking, but the nicer houses were usually higher up.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. *** Nickolette pulled a folding chair out of the trunk of her car and flopped her ass down in it with a sigh. The sky was getting darker, the air was getting colder, and the other people in the campground were starting to huddle around their tiny fires or disappearing into their fancy campers. A campground near the highway on a weekday certainly lacked the party atmosphere she had come to expect. With a dejected sigh she pulled on the tab of her tin of sausages and looked at the cold and sad chunks of meat. If only she had a way of warming them up. Either one of her neighbor''s little firepits or the small stove the guy in the next spot was using. Couldn''t be jealous of him though. He was sitting on a sleeping bag, heating water on a little camp stove presumably to make noodles. He had a gray plastic tote and a bucket. That was it. As if summoned by her thoughts, he looked up at her. Nickolette gave the man a smile and an upward head nod. ¡°You travel light.¡± He laughed. ¡°Literally everything I own.¡± ¡°Your girlfriend kick you out?¡± ¡°Ex wife.¡± Came the reply. He seemed a bit bitter about it, but it wasn''t aimed at her. ¡°What about you?¡± He asked, using the same upward head motion to note her car. Nickolette laughed. ¡°Girlfriend kicked me out.¡± They both laughed and a not-awkward silence fell between the two as Jake finished cooking his noodles and Nickolette chewed on a disappointing sausage. ¡°You''re not the guy I saw on the corner begging this morning are you?¡± Nickolette asked, hoping it didn''t sound offensive. ¡°Probably. Only took a couple hours.¡± ¡°And you made enough to stay here?¡± Jake looked around at his camping spot. ¡°Yeah, not much for $30 is it.¡± Nickolette snorted. ¡°Yeah, not sure I can afford it until payday.¡± ¡°I''ll go halfsies with you. Not like I''d actually be any closer.¡± ¡°What? And give up all this room?¡± Nickolette asked, gesturing at the empty space behind her car. The camping spots were long and narrow. Fit for campers and the truck to pull them. If she took the front, and the guy took the back, they would actually be farther apart. ¡°On a serious note, I''m good with that.¡± The guy nodded. ¡°I''m Jake Carter.¡± ¡°Nickolette Aliea. Nikki for short. Nix for fun.¡± ¡°Ha, well met Nikki.¡± Nickolette raised her bottle of water in a mock toast. 02 Day 002: Sleeping in the backseat of a car sucked. The seats were slanted instead of flat. There were buckles which dug into one''s back and Nickolette was on the tall side for a Tel¡¯ani, about average for a human, which meant she couldn''t stretch out. The damn vehicle also trapped in all the moisture, leaving her wet and sticky feeling when she woke up. The morning air was stupid cold, but nature called and the bathrooms were several campsites away. She noted that her tent-less, car-less neighbor was also awake, wrapped up in multiple sweatshirts and fiddling with his little green camp stove. Once her morning business was done and she was just about back to her car, Jake looked up at her and asked a question that was a single magical world. ¡°Coffee?¡± Nickolette stopped dead in her tracks. ¡°You have coffee?¡± Jake held up a gas station styrofoam coffee cup, ¡°Yes, but I don''t have another cup.¡± Nickolette found herself a bit confused. Had he run to a gas station while she was using the restrooms and was mocking her? ¡°You made coffee?¡± she asked, looking for some clarification. ¡°Yeah, if you got a cup, I can heat some water.¡± ¡°Yeah sure.¡± Jake nodded and filled his small cooking pot with water from a jug. Nickolette fell into the front seat of her car and pulled open a very similar gas station styrofoam cup to Jake¡¯s. She gave the cup a sniff. It smelled like stale coffee and not like mold so a brief rinse of water should do. She snatched her folding chair and brought it and her cup over to her neighbor''s identical camping spot. ¡°How do you plan to make coffee?¡± She asked, trying not to sound skeptical. Jake didn''t say a word, just held out his hand for her cup. With the styrofoam container surrendered to the man sitting cross-legged on the ground, Nickolette watched as he put a plastic thing over the rim and stuffed a coffee filter into it. Now she felt dumb. How was she supposed to know they sold single cup drip coffee maker thing-ys. A scoop of coffee grounds and a slow pour of hot water left a rich dark liquid pooling in the cup.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. ¡°Got any cream?¡± ¡°No, sorry.¡± Came Jake''s expected reply. Nickolette shrugged, creamless coffee was better than no coffee. She sat in her chair with a warm cup in her hands and let the hot bitter drink fight back against the cold trying to seep through her sweatpants and hoodie. Jake got up and started packing his things into the tote. ¡°I guess I''ll be moving in today.¡± He said with a grin as he picked up his tote and brought it over to the backside of Nickolette¡¯s camping spot. He really would be farther away. That was kind of funny. Nickolette said her thanks and goodbyes after taking $15 for his half of the spot. She paid at the entrance and headed off to work. ¡°Morning Cheryl.¡± Nickolette said as she meandered to her cubicle. ¡°Morning.¡± Cheryl mumbled back. Nickolette sat down in the chair, turned on her computer, and spread out the morning¡¯s map, weighing down the corners so it didn''t roll itself back up. ¡°Morning.¡± Came the tired sound of Sam''s voice. Those present returned the greeting as he wandered to the back of the line of cubicles. Sam was decent person, he liked online video games and all of the local sports teams a little too much, but he never gawked or was weird around the women. Nickolette felt bad for holding her breath as he went by. Nice guy, but fat and smelly. ¡°Morning Red.¡± Cheryl said as the cute little half-elf Lucy wandered in. ¡°Oh, good morning, Cheryl. Morning Nickolette.¡± Said the vibrant redhead in her usual quiet tone. ¡°Morning Luce.¡± Nickolette said completing the morning rituals. Nickolette hadn''t worked here for a full week yet and she was already sucked into the office rituals and customs. She clocked in, opened the D2L program and began the tedious process of updating city maps with cable line information. Mindless dull drum. *** ¡°Would you like your trees removed?¡± The old man retrieving his mail turned and looked at Jake with a perplexed expression. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Sorry.¡± Jake said with a self deprecating smile. ¡°Bad joke. There are trees growing out of your eaves troughs, if you have a working hose spigot, I can clean those out for you. Not today though.¡± Jake lifted his bucket slightly. ¡°On dog poop clean up today.¡± The old man turned back to his house and examined it. ¡°I do have trees in the gutters.¡± Jake tried not to laugh. ¡°How much?¡± ¡°$150.¡± ¡°The guy made a show of considering it, but Jake had a feeling that his gutters had been on some to-do list for a long time. ¡°Hmmm, front and back?¡± ¡°Yes sir.¡± ¡°When? "Tomorrow.¡± ¡°Sure then.¡± Jake gave the man a nod. ¡°See you tomorrow then.¡± *** Nickolette pulled her car into the camping spot a few hours after dark. A few hours after she finished her second job. Her stomach growled, letting her know that it was displeased with the lack of reasonably decent food. With a sigh she shifted through a box and fished out a pouch of tuna. It was unappealing at best, but hunger was hunger. Jake wasn''t visible tonight. His worldly possessions had grown to include a tent and a second tote. Nickolette finished her terrible meal, used the smelly concrete block bathrooms, and grumbled about how much she hated sleeping in a car. Maybe she should get a tent. At least she''d be able to stretch out. 03 Day 003: Way to short to be a chapter, I think I need to modify my story structure. Aluminum ladders had their pros and cons. Pros were that they were cheap and light. Both things that Jake was happy about as he didn''t have a lot of money and he was walking everywhere. If he had been carrying a fiberglass ladder, he''d be exhausted by the time he arrived at his first job of the day. The con was that the aluminum ladders were cheaply built. They occasionally folded. He¡¯d never forget the first time he watched an aluminum ladder fold. His father was coming down, once he hit the fourth step up, the bottom of the ladder caved. Jake had in a panic attempted to catch his father, an act that would have hurt him far worse than falling the four feet to the ground. His father had jumped down, or perhaps, gracefully fell, then slapped the top of the ladder to the side before the top fell on the both of them. That wasn''t a particularly good job. Literally the next day, one of Jake¡¯s father¡¯s employees stepped onto a board not supported by a roof jack and fell two stories. Amazingly the fall didn''t hurt him, but the board he had stepped on came down after him landing small first into his palm. He ended up okay. A few stitches and a tetanus shot just in case. As a rule Jake didn''t work on steep roofs. Best to leave those to the specialized companies with safety equipment and training.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Jake finished cleaning the eaves troughs of the old man and left another $150 richer. With ladder in hand he started down the street looking for any other houses that severely needed the service he was providing today. He stopped on the corner and stared across the street at a dirty and neglected looking two story home with flaking shingles, worn blue siding, and grass that clearly hadn''t been cut even once since the snow melted. He made his way across the street and eyed the ¡°for sale by owner¡± sign. Of course they never put a damn price on these things. The house looked in rough shape, but even if he could make a down payment, he couldn''t get a loan without pay stubs and a job history. He put it out of his mind and continued down the street until he found a single story brown house with a simple roof plan and eavestroughs overflowing with detritus. He knocked on the door. 04 Day 005: ¡°So, not a creeper?¡± Cheryl asked as Nickolette meandered to her cubicle. ¡°Not at all. I guess he could be leering at me while I sleep, but I don''t think so. I''d assume he was gay if I didn''t know he had just gotten divorced so¡­ then again that might be the reason. You should have met my last boss. He was the definition of sexual harassment.¡± Nickolette thumbed on her computer before turning. ¡°What''s up Red? You look like you have a question.¡± ¡°Oh, ah?¡± Lucy started in her usual shy tone, seeming surprised to have been noticed. ¡°It''s just, do you really live in your car?¡± ¡°Until I can afford a cheap apartment.¡± ¡°And speaking of affording things¡­¡± The group''s boss cut in. He dropped an envelope on Cheryl''s desk. ¡°Cheryl.¡± ¡°Thank you.¡± Cheryl replied cheerfully. Everyone loved payday. ¡°Nickolette, it''s only a week''s worth. Next payday should be double. Fitting in well though.¡± He dropped the envelope on her desk and leaned over to Red. ¡°Lucy.¡± A couple more steps to the rear of the alse brought him to his last drop off. ¡°And Sam. I got the Shentell maps up now, so there is plenty of work to do.¡± Nickolette let out a sigh of relief as her new boss headed off to his office and she found a check worth actual money in her hands. No more canned sausages. *** Nickolette tried not to let the rain bother her. It was cold and unpleasant and was going to mean her car was going to get muddy. Jake¡¯s tent had moved. Its original position now sported a sizable puddle. The current location included a tarp covering, giving it about two feet of dry ground in front of a somewhat open tent flap. Jake was visible inside fiddling with a cell phone. ¡°Hey.¡± Nickolette said, getting Jake''s attention while trying to squeeze herself into the dry spot. ¡°Its payday, I bought Sorjev, want some?¡± Jake stared at her for a moment with a befuddled look on his face as she held up the bag of food containers. ¡°Oh, ah, sure.¡± He tossed the phone to the side and leaned forward to unzip the tent enough to let her in.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Nickolette fell to her knees as she struggled to kick off her wet shoes. Jake took the bag from her, freeing her hands to fumble with the tent''s zipper. By the time she turned around, Jake had scooted backward and placed the bag on a plastic tote. She shifted her weight onto her ass and started unloading the contents of her bag onto the makeshift table. ¡°You didn''t need to include me in this.¡± Jake said as Nickolette unveiled dumplings, and four different types of sauced meats. ¡°Eh, this is my first payday in this town. I didn''t have anyone else to celebrate with.¡± ¡°Oh? Where you from?¡± Nickolette handed over one of the plastic forks. ¡°Palisade. You?¡± ¡°Greenbrush.¡± Nickolette nodded as she chewed on a strip of spicy pork. She pointed the business end of her plastic fork at Jake before asking, ¡°so what do you do all day? I doubt you need a ladder to beg on the street corner.¡± ¡°Handyman shit. Cleaning gutters and dog shit at the moment.¡± Nickolette snorted. ¡°How''s that pay?¡± ¡°$50 to clean up dog shit. $150 for gutters.¡± ¡°How many gutter jobs have you gotten?¡± ¡°Four yesterday. Only two the day before.¡± Nickolette stopped chewing. ¡°That''s almost more than I make in a week. You did make more. Fuck.¡± Jake chuckled. ¡°For now. I didn''t do anything today. But I got a phone now. Might head to the library tomorrow and print out some flyers. Can''t set up an actual business until I have an address though.¡± Nickolette switched to the peanut chicken. She gave a few thoughtful chews before deciding it was delicious and continuing the conversation. ¡°What do you need for a business?¡± ¡°Insurance mostly. Some paperwork filed with the Polei and maybe a permit from the city. All that needs a license, a phone number, and an address. I''m just short the address at the moment.¡± ¡°I''ve got a few more weeks before I can start looking for a cheap apartment. Looking forward to not sleeping in my car.¡± Jake nodded. ¡°Yeah. I''d prefer a house, but I don''t have the work history or down-payment needed to even look.¡± ¡°Ha, I''ve never had that much saved up. Or a stable enough life to think about owning a home. Not sure what I do with one.¡± ¡°I''d fix it up and either rent it out or sell it. Then buy another.¡± ¡°Well, let me know when you got a place to rent.¡± Nickolette said before dipping her jerked chicken into one of the sauces. ¡°Sure, doubt I''ll find you here when I''m ready for that though.¡± ¡°Not going to ask for my number?¡± She asked with a teasing tone. ¡°Didn''t want to imply interest in dating. I think I''d like to stay single for a year, or two, or six.¡± Nickolette snorted. ¡°Fuck I hear you there. Last girlfriend was a bitch. I''m fucking horrible with relationships.¡± Jake lifted his dumpling. ¡°Here''s to avoiding relationship bullshit then.¡± Nickolette lifted her own dumpling. ¡°Aye aye.¡± 05 Day 012: Jake stopped. The ¡°For Sale by Owner¡± sign caught his attention immediately after he had laughed at the hole in the wall just under the eave. He hadn''t realized that he''d been walking down the same street he had nearly a week ago and looked at this same house. Today he had been coming from the opposite side of the beat up blue house. The grass was already overgrown, the hole was big enough that a family of squirrels could enter and exit comfortably, and the shingles looked like shit. On a whim, Jake pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number posted on the sign. Of course no one answered. ¡°Hey, my name is Jake Carter. I was wondering what was up with the blue house on Saint''s End. 602 I think. How much and what all is wrong with it?¡± With the message left, he pocketed the phone and started back down the street. He looked the side over as he passed. The rear porch steps were rotting away and the very narrow single stall garage that looked like I wouldn''t be capable of fitting a car, looked ready to fall over. Jake pulled the phone back out of his pocket and looked down at the incoming call. ¡°Well that didn''t take long.¡± He said to himself as he answered. ¡°This is Jake.¡± ¡°Hey, you called about the house in Devil''s Peak? 602 Saint''s End?¡± That was interesting. The guy on the other end specified that the house was in Devil''s Peak, which meant he either wasn''t from the area, or he had multiple houses for sale in multiple towns. ¡°Yeah, how much and what''s wrong with it?¡± ¡°It''s being sold as is. Twenty thousand, but the roof needs work, there is a hole in the upstairs wall, and the pipes froze and burst during the winter.¡± ¡°Huh, I suppose you can''t sell it via conventional bank loan without fixing it up first?¡± ¡°Right.¡± ¡°And you likely don''t have the money for that many repairs?¡± ¡°That''s correct.¡± ¡°Hmmmm. I''d like to see how bad it is.¡± ¡°I got a guy who will show it to you if you''re serious.¡± ¡°Yeah, I don''t have twenty-k in my back pocket right now, but it''s just a matter of time and I can think of a few other options that would work.¡± There was a long pause on the other side of the line as the man no doubt considered Jake¡¯s words. He had admitted to not having the money, but had left enough of a maybe in there to give the guy hope. ¡°I''ll send Mike your number. He''ll reach out to you when he''s got time.¡± Mike had time a couple hours later. A few back and forths via text messaging and Jake was meeting a heavyset human man with a pudgy red face. He tried not to judge the guy. After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Mike unlocked the door and let Jake in. It opened directly into the kitchen. To the right was the countertop, the colorful veneer peeling away from the particle board core around the sink. The sink itself was still filled with dishes. The flooring was of the peel and stick tile variety, but seemed solid and level enough. To the left was an old added yellow table complete with pile of mail and four chairs. One had a worn cushion on it, the others looked untouched. ¡°What exactly is up with this place?¡± Jake asked. ¡°Ah, Pete''s mother got real sick late fall. She was hospitalized for several months and didn''t make it through the winter. Pete hasn''t left the city in twenty years.¡± ¡°Shit, that sucks.¡± Jake walked into the living room where the ancient carpet was worn down to near nothing in a path that led from the kitchen to the bathroom. A bed sat in one corner as the older lady likely stopped climbing the stairs years ago.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. The bathroom needed some work. The floor was a bit soft near the toilet and the tiles around the tub looked like some of them were ready to fall off. Jake moved up the stairs to find three small rooms. Two of them contained only boxes. The one with the hole in the wall had a small bed, a truly ancient TV, and a rundown dresser. The plaster was splitting in several places and the carpet was discussing, particularly around the hole in the wall, but the structure seemed stable enough. ¡°Where¡¯s the basement?¡± Jake asked as he returned to the first floor. ¡°Ahh, over here I think.¡± Mike said as he walked back into the kitchen and pulled open a closet door. The staircase was small and rickety. Jake lit the way with the flashlight on his cellphone. Calling it a basement would have been too generous. The floor dirt and Jake had to duck his head. The furnace looked old, but in reasonable condition. The water heater was a mess. It bulged out in places and the discolored area under it proved that it had failed when the water inside froze. The house had to be old and whoever had built it had clearly cut corners with the ¡®not basement, not crawl space¡¯. But for twenty thousand¡­ ¡°Alright, I think I''ve seen enough. I''ll give the guy a call back.¡± ¡°Chance you''ll buy it?¡± Mike asked. ¡°Maybe. Money''s the issue. Can''t get a loan. I''ll see if I can work something out.¡± ¡°Would you consider renting it out for six months?¡± Jake asked the guy on the other side of the phone conversation. He was leaning against the rickety shed/garage thing. ¡°What do you mean?¡± asked Pete, his tone of voice skeptical. Not a lot of people have 20K in their pocket, plus the amount needed to get the house liveable. I''d like to rent it for up to six months, say at three hundred a month. After six months I''ll buy it. I''d have to fix up the pipes to live in it anyway so even if I couldn''t come up with the money, you''d have an easier time selling it.¡± Jake waited for the decision to be made. ¡°I''ll have to think about it.¡± ¡°Sure, you''ve got my number.¡± *** Nickolette pulled out her chair, unfolded the thing, and slumped herself into it. She gave a glance over at Jake who was on his phone. ¡°Hmmm. I need money to replace pipes and fix the hole and such. How ¡®bout four hundred¡­ Right¡­ I can get a contract drafted up¡­ Sure, what''s your address¡­ Oh wow.¡± Nickolette noted the look of surprise on Jake''s as he wrote something down in the small notebook he kept in one of his pockets. ¡°Alright, I''ll message you tomorrow¡­ Sounds good¡­ Bye¡­¡± He turned his attention to her. ¡°What''s up?¡± Nickolette held a package of sausages up. ¡°Wanted to use your camp stove if that''s ok?¡± ¡°Yeah sure.¡± His head disappeared into his tent and Nickolette took a moment hlto admire his ass. Jake set the camp stove on a tote next to Nickolette and slumped into his own folding chair. ¡°So,¡± Jake started as Nickolette fired up the stove. ¡°How''s the cheap apartment search?¡± ¡°Eeh, the cheapest place I''ve found is 500 per month, but I need first and last month''s rent and a security deposit. Why?¡± ¡°What about 200 a month and half the utilities?¡± ¡°Seriously? What''s the catch?¡± ¡°Several catches. First, you''d have a roommate. Second, the place is a mess and needs a thorough cleaning. Third, there''s currently no working water. It would basically be like living here, except in a building¡­ For a little while.¡± Nickolette leaned back in her chair and considered. Jake could practically see the math running through her head. 200 was less than two weeks renting together. Less than one week renting alone. She''d have to suffer subpar conditions for longer, but would save a considerable amount financially. ¡°I''m willing to look at it.¡± Came the measured response. Jake gave her an accepting nod. ¡°Will be a few days.¡± ¡°What did whoever you were talking to say? You looked surprised.¡± ¡°Oh, his address is in the city.¡± ¡°What city?¡± ¡°The city.¡± ¡°Helenapolis?¡± Nickolette asked with as much surprise as Jake probably had when he heard the name. ¡°Yep.¡± ¡°That''s fucking crazy. Why''s a guy who lives in an arcology got a house way out here?¡± ¡°His mom lived here.¡± ¡°Huh.¡± Comfortable silence settled between them as Nickolette cooked and they both considered Arcologies. 06 Day 018: Nickolette made her way down the narrow staircase and into the living room. The place certainly was a mess. A mess she would be happy to deal with for only $200 and half utilities a month for the next six months. The toilet not working, she was less enthusiastic about. ¡°Is it electric or gas?... Is there a large break for it, or a pipe that goes into the ceiling above it?¡± Jake said, talking to someone over the phone while leaning against the counter. Nickolette looked out the large front window and at the houses on the other side of the street as she absently listened to the conversation. ¡°And there''s nothing wrong with the old one?... Okay. I would call the local home improvement store, tell them what you want and make sure they know it''s electric and the breaker size¡­ Right double 40¡­ Yep. Have them deliver and send me a message. I''ll do it $100 and the old one¡­ Yes¡­ I happen to really need one right now so win-win¡­ Right¡­ Talk to you later¡­ Yeah, thank you.¡± Jake ended the call and looked up. ¡°Well?¡± ¡°Sure is a mess.¡± Nickolette replied. ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°What about the water?¡± Jake pointed to the table he had piled with tubes and a bucket of tools. ¡°I''ll get cold water going today. Hot water might take some time.¡± Nickolette crossed her arms and nodded. As long as the toilet and sink worked, she could deal with the mess. She could buy a real bed to sleep in instead of savin06up for an apartment. ¡°You get the toilet and sink working and I''m in.¡± ¡°All-righty.¡± Jake picked up the bucket and the tubes and headed to a closet. The open door revealed a very narrow set of stairs that went into a dingy looking basement. ¡°Want some help?¡± Nickolette asked. She''d already finished work and had the day off from her second job. ¡°I won''t say no. It''ll certainly go faster just having someone to hold the light.¡± He dropped the tubes and handed Nickolette a flashlight once they were both under the house. Nickolette would have expected him to follow Any of the pipes that were above their heads, but he instead made his way to the electrical box. She almost giggled at the way Jake had to duck his head, but managed not to. The tips of her horns almost hit a low hanging pipe so being a hair too tall might be just as annoying as being too short. ¡°See this wire?¡±Jake said pointing at a thick copper wire without the plastic coating of normal wires. ¡°We''re looking for where it connects to the pipes.¡± ¡°Why would it connect to a pipe?¡± Nickolette asked. Because common sense said it was bad to mix water and electricity. ¡°It grounds the system. They don''t do it that way anymore.¡± ¡°Is that it?¡± Nickolette asked, pointing the beam of her flashlight at a spot where the wire was clamped onto a pipe. ¡°That''s it. Now let''s see if we can follow the pipe back to the main shutoff. Should be easy. We¡¯re just making sure it''s attached.¡± The two of them made their way over to the main waterline while following the pipe, which got bigger as they went. ¡°Good. No problems there then.¡± Jake placed a small red colored tool onto the pipe above the valve, tightened a screw thing, and started rotating it around the pipe. ¡°What are you doing?¡±Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°Cutting the pipe. Can you find the sandpaper? In the bucket somewhere.¡± Nickolette fished through the bucket. She knew what sandpaper was, if not the other things. The pipe snapped apart and Jake rubbed the lower end of the cut pipe until it was shiny. He pressed a small tube thing with brass ends onto the now clean pipe. ¡°I need those clamps now.¡± ¡°Clamps?¡± Jake looked into the bucket and pulled out two copper clamp looking things and a small roll for the same thick copper wire that ran out of the electrical box and attached to the pipes. He clamped one end of the wire to the lower pipe and the other end to the pipe that was now separated. ¡°We need to make sure the electrical can still ground to the outside.¡± Nickolette nodded in acknowledgment, not that he could see it with the lights pointed elsewhere. ¡°Okay, now we take this three quarter inch pipe.¡± Jake picked up one of the rolls of blue tubing and walked over to a damaged looking water heater. ¡°Can you hold this while I run it over the existing pipes?¡± Nickolette took the roll and Jake took the end, lifting it over the old pipes and threading through all the way to the water valve where he shoved it into the coupling he had put on earlier. All Nickolette had to do was unravel the roll as he went. ¡°Alright, dig my finger cutters out the bucket.¡± ¡°Finger cutters?¡± Nickolette asked, hoping that wasn''t what the tool was actually called. ¡°They''re red, large blade on one side.¡± He said with a chuckle as he pulled a brass fitting out of its bag. Nickolette found the tool. It did look like it could cut fingers off. Handing it to Jake, he snipped the blue tube with the tool as if it were butter. Warm soft butter, not cold refrigerator butter. ¡°Okay. This is a three quarter inch ring.¡± He said holding up a black piece of metal resembling a crude ring. I''ll need another one in a minute.¡± Jake put the ring on the tube, shoved the brass fitting into the tube, then used a large pliers-like tool to clamp the ring down. ¡°Ring please.¡± Nickolette handed him another ring and he repeated the clamping procedure with the other side of the fitting. ¡°Why''d you cut the pipe just to clamp it back together?¡± Jake rotated the fitting so she could see the smaller branch of the fitting. ¡°This goes to the kitchen sink.¡± ¡°Ah, I didn''t see that side.¡± She followed Jake back to the other end where he put a similar fitting on followed by a valve. They then ran a thinner tube from the fitting over toward the bathtub area. ¡°Can you go upstairs, next to the toilet is this pipe.¡± He tapped the copper pipe he was cutting. ¡°Pull it out and put the blue one I have up there in the same hole.¡± Nickolette gave him a nod and a word of acknowledgement before running to the main floor and doing as asked. ¡°Do you want me to come back down?¡± She yelled at the floor. ¡°No, one minute¡­ Open the vanity.¡± Nickolette shifted over to the sink cabinet. One of the pipes was moving, after a moment it fell, then was pushed up. ¡°Can you grab that?¡± Came Jake''s muffled voice. Nickolette compiled and was momentarily shocked when a blue pipe snaked up from underneath, filling the same hole. The next pipe over started moving and she pulled it out when it fell, but a new pipe didn''t show up to replace it. She waited a bit, but no new orders came she met Jake at the stairs as he was coming up. ¡°What''s next?¡± She asked. ¡°Hmm, wanna start taking apart that box.¡± Jake pointed to a large box with a picture of a toilet on it. ¡°Old one''s probably fine, but it''s not something I want to gamble on.¡± Nearly as soon as Nickolette had all the small toilet components out of the box and on the kitchen table, Jake came through carrying half of the old toilet. ¡°Door please.¡± He grunted. Nickolette opened the door and Jake grabbed the new porcelain throne on his way back. ¡°That small box there, grab that.¡± Jake scraped away a disgusting goopy substance from the tube that all the shit went down before opening the small box and sticking a new goopy ring on the bottom of the new toilet bowl. He rotated the whole thing, lined it up with a couple of bolts and set it down over the hole, squishing the goop ring. Once settled in place, Jake began tightening it down. ¡°Wanna grab the tank and bag of hardware?¡± ¡°Yeah sure.¡± With the tank in place, a tube connected to the pipe they had put in earlier and the flushing mechanism put into place, Jake slowly turned on the water. Nickolette was upstairs with orders to scream if water started shooting out of anything. Nothing was leaking. They both watched the toilet fill up and flush appropriately. Jake checked some other pipes for leaks, but found none. ¡°All right. A few more fittings and I''ll have the sinks working.¡± ¡°Get me the ability to take a hot shower and I''ll blow you.¡± Nickolette responded. Jake laughed. ¡°Don''t make promises you don''t intend to keep. I was just talking to a guy who wants his water heater replaced. Old one works, it''s just too small. On that note, would you be willing to drive, and me here. I can''t carry a tank.¡± Nickolette chuckled at the thought of Jake hauling a large metal tank down the sidewalk. ¡°Yeah sure. If it gets me a shower here instead of the gym.¡± Test Scene 1 (Poll at bottom)
This is a writing methodology test. I''m going to be posting bits of the opening scene written by two different methods and and running a poll on which people think is the best. Test Scene A Nicolette stormed out of the second-floor apartment, her duffel bag slung over her shoulder and anger simmering just beneath her purple-hued skin. The echoes of her shouting match with her now ex-girlfriend still rang in her ears. She wanted to slam the door, to punctuate the end of their relationship with a satisfying bang, but experience held her back. She¡¯d learned as a child that slamming doors often resulted in her tail getting caught. A mistake she was not willing to repeat. Instead, she closed the door with a firm, restrained push, the click feeling feeble compared to the rage boiling inside her. She strode toward her car parked at the curb just past the apartment¡¯s lawn, chin held high in an attempt to preserve a shred of dignity. Her tail swayed sharply with each step, betraying her emotions. Just as she reached the pavement, her ex¡¯s voice pierced the air. ¡°You forgot your stupid hoodie!¡± Nicolette froze, then turned just in time to see a balled-up hoodie hurtling toward her. It unfurled mid-air and flopped unceremoniously into the bushes. Her ex leaned out the second-story window, laughing derisively and throwing up two middle fingers before slamming the window shut. For a moment, Nicolette considered leaving the hoodie where it lay, tangled among the branches. It wasn¡¯t worth the effort or the humiliation, but practicality won out. She muttered a curse under her breath and doubled back, plucking the garment from the bushes. Shaking off a few stray leaves, she continued toward her car, her steps heavier now, her pride bruised. Reaching her old sedan, she tossed the duffel bag into the back seat and slid into the driver¡¯s seat. Ensuring her tail was safely inside, she slammed the door with a resounding thunk that provided a small, fleeting sense of satisfaction. She jammed the key into the ignition, her hands trembling with frustration, and turned it. The vehicle let out a screeching whine, refusing to start. She gritted her teeth and tried again, the sound mocking her with every failed attempt. "Come on, girl, don¡¯t do this to me," Nicolette pleaded, her voice wavering as she turned the key once more. This time, the engine started as if nothing was wrong. Relief washed over her, and she patted the dashboard gently. "Good girl," she murmured, forcing a faint smile. She shifted the car into reverse and stepped on the gas, but instead of rolling backward, the vehicle lurched forward and collided with one of the wooden posts that separated the parking lot from the lawn. "Shit!" she hissed, slamming the brake and throwing the car into actual reverse. This time, she carefully backed out, her cheeks burning with a mix of anger and embarrassment.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Nicolette drove aimlessly for a while before pulling into the back end of a department store parking lot. The lot was nearly empty, its desolate corners offering her a semblance of privacy. She grabbed her phone and stared at the screen for a long moment before texting her brother. "Hey. Jenna kicked me out again. Is your couch still available?" She hit send, knowing he wouldn¡¯t see it for hours and hating herself for being a burden on him and his wife. Tossing the phone onto the passenger seat, she rested her forehead on the steering wheel, her tail curling around her ankle in a gesture of despair. Hot tears pricked at her eyes, but before they could spill, she angrily slammed her palms against the steering wheel. The loud thud echoed in the empty lot, a futile attempt to vent her frustration. Only then did she allow herself to cry, the sobs wracking her body as she curled into herself, alone in the cold, unfeeling car. Test Scene B It was hard for a Tel¡¯ani to slam the door. Not due to mass, sure the average Tel¡¯ani was smaller than the average human, but it was the long sinuous black tail that got in the way. Tel¡¯ani children learned early on not to slam doors. Slamming doors caused a lot of pain. This was a good thing for Nickolette as the Apartment¡¯s Entry door wasn¡¯t hers to accidentally break just because she was pissed. She marched forward with a bag full of her clothes, green eyes focused on the parking lot and totally trying to ignore the sound of the second story window opening. ¡°Hey Bitch!¡± Jenna screamed. Nickolette did not look back. She was going to walk out to her car and leave with as much dignity as she could muster. ¡°You forgot your stupid hoodie!¡± Well shit¡­ Nickolette turned just in time to see the balled up fabric of her favorite hoodie unfold mid-flight and drop into the hedges along the building. Jenna flashed Nickolette a double bird and slammed the window. Nickolette hung her head as she walked back to the building to fish her hoodie out of the bush. She threw the bag and hoodie in the back seat of the car and only after making sure her tail was securely inside the vehicle, slammed the car door with a satisfying thud. She angrily shoved the key into the ignition, an action that took a couple tries, and turned. The car made a horrific grinding noise. ¡°No, no, no, don¡¯t do this to me now.¡± She begged as she turned the key again and winced at the horrible sound. ¡°Please start, I need you to start.¡± She gave it to the count of ten and turned again. The car turned over and Nickolete rested her forehead on the steering wheel while patting the dashboard. ¡°There¡¯s a good girl.¡± Nickolette put the car in reverse, looked behind her, and pushed on the gas only to lurch forward and into the wooded post that separated the parking lot from the grass. Nickolete grit her teeth, put the car in actual reverse, looked behind her, and carefully pulled out. It was a two minute drive to the parking lot of the local department store where she parked in a distant spot and screamed her frustrations into the steering wheel. She then pulled out her cellphone and navigated to her brother¡¯s number. ¡°Hey. Jenna kicked me out again. Is your couch still available?¡± He wouldn¡¯t see it until his lunch break and she wasn¡¯t fond of being a burden on him and his wife, but she was homeless again. Nickolette prepared herself for a good cry, but spent the first minute or so beating on the steering wheel in anger. 00 Prologue re-write 00 Prologue Nicolette stormed out of the second-floor apartment, her duffel bag slung over her shoulder and anger simmering just beneath her purple-hued skin. The echoes of her shouting match with her now ex-girlfriend still rang in her ears. She wanted to slam the door, to punctuate the end of their relationship with a satisfying bang, but experience held her back. She¡¯d learned as a child that slamming doors often resulted in her tail getting caught. A mistake she was not willing to repeat. Instead, she closed the door with a firm, restrained push, the click feeling feeble compared to the rage boiling inside her. She strode toward her car parked at the curb just past the apartment¡¯s lawn, chin held high in an attempt to preserve a shred of dignity. Her tail swayed sharply with each step, betraying her emotions. Just as she reached the pavement, her ex¡¯s voice pierced the air. ¡°You forgot your stupid hoodie!¡± Nicolette froze, then turned just in time to see a balled-up hoodie hurtling toward her. It unfurled mid-air and flopped unceremoniously into the bushes. Her ex leaned out the second-story window, laughing derisively and throwing up two middle fingers before slamming the window shut. For a moment, Nicolette considered leaving the hoodie where it lay, tangled among the branches. It wasn¡¯t worth the effort or the humiliation, but practicality won out. She muttered a curse under her breath and doubled back, plucking the garment from the bushes. Shaking off a few stray leaves, she continued toward her car, her steps heavier now, her pride bruised. Reaching her old sedan, she tossed the duffel bag into the back seat and slid into the driver¡¯s seat. Ensuring her tail was safely inside, she slammed the door with a resounding thunk that provided a small, fleeting sense of satisfaction. She jammed the key into the ignition, her hands trembling with frustration, and turned it. The vehicle let out a screeching whine, refusing to start. She gritted her teeth and tried again, the sound mocking her with every failed attempt. "Come on, girl, don¡¯t do this to me," Nicolette pleaded, her voice wavering as she turned the key once more. This time, the engine started as if nothing was wrong. Relief washed over her, and she patted the dashboard gently. "Good girl," she murmured, forcing a faint smile. She shifted the car into reverse and stepped on the gas, but instead of rolling backward, the vehicle lurched forward and collided with one of the wooden posts that separated the parking lot from the lawn. "Shit!" she hissed, slamming the brake and throwing the car into actual reverse. This time, she carefully backed out, her cheeks burning with a mix of anger and embarrassment. Nicolette drove aimlessly for a while before pulling into the back end of a department store parking lot. The lot was nearly empty, its desolate corners offering her a semblance of privacy. She grabbed her phone and stared at the screen for a long moment before texting her brother. "Hey. Jenna kicked me out again. Is your couch still available?" She hit send, knowing he wouldn¡¯t see it for hours and hating herself for being a burden on him and his wife. Tossing the phone onto the passenger seat, she rested her forehead on the steering wheel, her tail curling around her ankle in a gesture of despair. Hot tears pricked at her eyes, but before they could spill, she angrily slammed her palms against the steering wheel. The loud thud echoed in the empty lot, a futile attempt to vent her frustration. Only then did she allow herself to cry, the sobs wracking her body as she curled into herself, alone in the cold, unfeeling car.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. *** Nicolette leaned against the counter, absently fiddling with a pen while her coworker Sally leaned over, whispering conspiratorially. ¡°You know, you could always move. Devil¡¯s Peak is only a few hours away.¡± Nicolette sighed, her tail flicking in irritation. ¡°I can¡¯t just pack up and go. Moving takes money, and I don¡¯t exactly have a savings account right now. And my car is falling apart.¡± She avoided Sally¡¯s gaze, focusing instead on the chipped paint of the counter. Before Sally could reply, Carl, the store manager, walked past with a clipboard in hand. His eyes lingered too long on Nicolette, his smile making her skin crawl. ¡°Hey, Nikki,¡± he called out, ¡°I need you to clear off the top shelves in aisle five today. Got it?¡± His tone was dripping with fake cheerfulness, but the underlying insinuation in his glance was impossible to miss. Nicolette stiffened, clutching the pen so tightly her knuckles turned a shade lighter. She mumbled an acknowledgment and turned back to Sally, who rolled her eyes the moment Carl was out of earshot. ¡°You forgot to change out of that skirt after your¡­ morning drama. You know he¡¯s going to take advantage of that.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t remind me,¡± Nicolette muttered, pulling at the hem of her skirt as if that would make it longer. She had been too frazzled after her fight to change into her usual jeans, and now she felt like she had a target painted on her. Sally leaned closer, her voice dropping. ¡°You know what you should do? Use your brother¡¯s address to get out of here. Get a gym membership so you can take a shower, and sleep in your car. It¡¯s temporary, but it beats staying in this hellhole and dealing with Creepy Carl every day.¡± Nicolette¡¯s tail flicked sharply, a sign of her frustration. ¡°And then what? I¡¯ll just be homeless in Devil¡¯s Peak instead of a miserable stock clerk here? That doesn¡¯t sound like much of an upgrade.¡± Sally shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s not perfect, but at least you¡¯d have a shot. Staying here means more of the same. Dead-end job, rundown town, and Carl thinking he can get away with¡­ whatever that was.¡± She gestured toward the aisle where Carl had disappeared. Nicolette hesitated, the weight of the decision pressing down on her. Her tail coiled slightly behind her as she considered her options: endure Carl¡¯s harassment and a dead-end life in her hometown, or take a risk, even if it meant sleeping in her car and starting from scratch. Neither choice was ideal, but Sally¡¯s words planted a seed of possibility she couldn¡¯t quite ignore. *** Nicolette sat behind the wheel of her car, her fingers drumming absently against the steering wheel as she waited at the red light. She leaned her head against the headrest, exhaustion creeping in after the long drive into Devil¡¯s Peak. The weight of her decision to leave home still pressed heavily on her, but the not too distant tree covered hills in the town¡¯s backdrop offered a strange sort of comfort. As her gaze wandered, it landed on a man standing at the intersection with a cardboard sign. His clothes were worn, his hair slightly disheveled, but his posture wasn¡¯t defeated. He held the sign steady, its bold, handwritten letters declaring, ¡°Starting over. Trying to get back on my feet. Need money or¡­¡± Nicolette squinted to read the rest, but the light turned green before she could make out the list of items. She hesitated for a moment, her foot hovering over the gas pedal. Something about him tugged at her¡ªa kind of resilience in his stance that she didn¡¯t expect from a beggar. The car behind her honked, snapping her out of the moment, and she pressed the gas, driving through the intersection. The man stood at the corner of an entrance road leading downhill to a cluster of businesses: a building supply store, a supercenter, and a strip mall with faded storefront signs. Nicolette caught a glimpse of the area as she passed, making a mental note of the location. It didn¡¯t look like much, but she suspected she¡¯d find herself there sooner rather than later. She shook off the encounter as she drove on, focusing instead on finding somewhere to park for the night. Still, the image of the man and his sign lingered in her mind. ¡°Starting over,¡± she muttered to herself, her tail flicking against the seat. ¡°Yeah, aren¡¯t we all?¡± 01 Day 001 re-write Jake Carter stood at the intersection just off the main road near the building supply store, holding his makeshift cardboard sign. Its blocky, black letters read: "Starting over. Trying to get back on my feet. Need money or¡­ 5 gal bucket, Trash bags, Garden shovel, Metal dog pooper scooper, Dog treats, Water." He held it high, shifting his weight from foot to foot as cars sped past. Most drivers didn¡¯t even glance his way. He had already grown accustomed to the range of reactions. Some people averted their eyes, unwilling to acknowledge him. Others laughed openly, pointing him out to their passengers. A few generous souls handed him crumpled bills or loose change. One man in a beat-up truck tossed a pooper scooper out the window, laughing as if it were a brilliant joke. Jake wasn¡¯t sure why it was funny, but he had one less tool to purchase. When he figured he¡¯d scraped together enough cash, he folded his sign and started down the hill toward the building supply store. The lot smelled strongly of kiln dried lumber and dust, a comforting mix. He entered, his shoulders set with purpose, and grabbed the remaining items from his list¡ªa sturdy plastic bucket, a box of heavy-duty trash bags, a garden shovel, and a bag of dog treats. Geared up and ready, Jake wandered down the nearby street, staying just off the main road. The late afternoon sun was warm against his deeply tanned skin, and his boots scuffed against the cracked pavement as he scanned the neighborhood. His first stop was a small, run-down house with a fenced yard and a large dog pacing inside. The house had seen better days. The siding sagged, showing signs of weather damage. The faded 12-inch Masonite panels¡ªonce popular decades ago¡ªwere now impossible to replace. Jake set his bucket of supplies down and approached the door, his broad shoulders slightly hunched as he knocked firmly. The dog barked loudly, its deep voice echoing through the neighborhood. Jake waited, stepping back a bit to show he wasn¡¯t a threat. No one answered. After a moment, he shrugged to himself, picked up his gear, and moved on to the next house. *** Jake stopped at the next house, a modest single-story home with a well-kept lawn and a medium sized dog yapping behind the screen door. He set his bucket down and knocked. A moment later, an older woman answered, peering at him with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. ¡°Hi. My name¡¯s Jake Carter,¡± he began, his voice steady and polite. ¡°I¡¯m offering dog poop clean-up for $50 a yard today. Would you be interested?¡± The woman blinked, her gaze lingering on him a bit too long before her expression tightened. ¡°No,¡± she said curtly, shoving her dog out of the way and shutting the door before he could say another word. Jake stood there for a moment, exhaling slowly. He was used to rejection, but it never got easier. He picked up his supplies and glanced around the street, his eyes landing on the next intersection. There, a hill stretched upward, lined with houses that grew progressively larger and more impressive the higher they climbed. He knew from experience that wealthy people valued their time and often paid for convenience. If he was going to find a client today, it would be up there. With a determined shrug, Jake adjusted the bucket in his hand and started toward the hill, his boots crunching against the gravel as he prepared to try again. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. *** Nicolette pulled a worn folding chair from her car¡¯s trunk and flopped into it with a sigh that carried the weight of the day. The campground was quieter than she had anticipated. The sky was dimming to deep gray, and the cool evening air was settling in. Around her, tiny campfires flickered like isolated islands of light, but most people had already disappeared into their campers or tents. It wasn¡¯t the lively scene she¡¯d imagined¡ªmaybe because it was a weekday, or perhaps the constant hum of highway traffic just beyond the trees killed the mood. She pulled a small tin of sausages from her bag, frowning as she pried it open. The contents were uninspiring at best: sad little chunks of processed meat glistening in their own oily brine. A proper meal would require a fire or at least a camp stove, but she had neither. Her gaze drifted toward the next campsite where a man, scruffy and broad-shouldered, crouched over a small pot balanced on a makeshift burner. The guy wasn¡¯t living much better than her. His setup consisted of a single sleeping bag spread out on the gravel, a gray plastic tote, and a battered five-gallon bucket. He stirred what looked like a packet of instant noodles, steam rising from the pot. Still, it was hard not to envy him for at least having something warm to eat. As if summoned by her thoughts, the man looked up, his eyes catching hers. Nicolette offered a half-smile and gave him a casual upward nod. ¡°You travel light,¡± she remarked, gesturing vaguely toward his modest belongings. The man chuckled, his laugh quiet but not unkind. ¡°It¡¯s everything I own,¡± he said, his tone straightforward. ¡°Your girlfriend kick you out?¡± Nicolette asked, half-joking but curious, her tone light enough to keep things casual. Jake gave a dry, slightly bitter chuckle, shaking his head. ¡°Ex-wife,¡± he replied, the bitterness clear, but not aimed at her. He glanced at her car. ¡°What about you?¡± Nicolette let out a small laugh, shaking the tin of sausages in her hand. ¡°Girlfriend kicked me out,¡± she admitted with a smirk, as if trying to soften the sting of the truth with humor. Jake smiled faintly, and for a moment, they shared a quiet chuckle over the common ground. The conversation drifted into a comfortable silence, broken only by the faint hum of the highway and the occasional crackle of a distant campfire. Jake focused on his steaming noodles, stirring them with slow, deliberate movements, while Nicolette chewed on her disappointing sausages, the flavors as dull as her mood. Nicolette hesitated for a moment before asking, ¡°Were you the guy on the street corner this morning? Cardboard sign, list of supplies?¡± Jake looked up from his noodles, a flicker of embarrassment crossing his face before he nodded. ¡°Yeah, that was me.¡± She chuckled softly, leaning back in her chair. ¡°So, how many days of begging does it take to afford the $30 campground fee?¡± Jake laughed, the sound lighter this time. ¡°Only took a couple of hours. People were more generous than I¡¯d thought they¡¯d be.¡± Nicolette shook her head, grinning. ¡°I might have to start begging too. I can¡¯t even afford the campground all the way to payday. So you¡¯re still one up on me.¡± Jake tilted his head, considering her for a moment. ¡°We could split a spot,¡± he offered casually. ¡°Technically, we¡¯d be further away from each other than we are now. These spaces are rather long and narrow.¡± She raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at her lips. ¡°You¡¯re not a serial killer, are you?¡± ¡°If I was, I wouldn¡¯t kill the person directly next to me. It¡¯s too obvious.¡± He replied with a smirk. Nicolette laughed, leaning forward slightly. ¡°Nicolette Aliea. Nikki for short. Nix for fun.¡± Jake raised his water bottle in a mock toast. ¡°Jake Carter.¡± She raised her bottle as well. ¡°To our tiny business deal,¡± Nicolette said, grinning. ¡°And saving a combined thirty bucks,¡± Jake added with a grin of his own. 02 Day 002 re-write Sleeping in the backseat of a car was misery incarnate. The seats slanted just enough to make lying flat impossible, and every buckle seemed perfectly positioned to jab into her back. Being on the tall side for a Tel¡¯ani¡ªabout average height for a human¡ªmeant Nicolette couldn¡¯t fully stretch out either. She woke up sore, sticky from the trapped moisture in the car, and immediately regretted her life choices. The morning air was unreasonably cold, and nature wasn¡¯t going to wait. With a groan, she grabbed her jacket and climbed out of the car, shivering as she trudged to the bathroom a few campsites away. On her way back, she spotted her tent-less, car-less neighbor already awake. Jake was bundled up in multiple sweatshirts, hunched over his small green camp stove. As she drew closer to her car, he glanced up and said one magical word: ¡°Coffee?¡± Nicolette stopped mid-step, blinking at him. ¡°You have coffee?¡± He held up a white Styrofoam cup, the kind you¡¯d find at any gas station. ¡°Yeah, but I don¡¯t have another cup.¡± Her brow furrowed. ¡°Wait¡ªyou made coffee?¡± she asked, half-convinced he¡¯d run to a gas station while she was gone and was now mocking her. Jake gave her a crooked smile and nodded toward his stove. ¡°Yep. If you¡¯ve got a cup, I¡¯ll heat up some water for you.¡± ¡°Yeah, sure,¡± Nicolette replied, her voice tinged with surprise. While Jake poured water from a jug into his small cooking pot, Nicolette climbed into the front seat of her car and rummaged through her things. She found a Styrofoam cup nearly identical to his, left over from some gas station stop of her own. It still smelled faintly like stale coffee, and as far as she could tell, it wasn¡¯t moldy¡ªgood enough. Cup in hand, she grabbed her folding chair from the trunk and carried it over to Jake¡¯s campsite. She set it down with a huff and plopped into it, holding out her cup. ¡°All right, let¡¯s see if this magical coffee of yours lives up to the hype.¡± ¡°How do you plan to make coffee?¡± Nicolette asked, trying to mask her skepticism with curiosity. Jake didn¡¯t say a word. Instead, he simply held out his hand for her cup. After a brief hesitation, she handed over the Styrofoam container, watching as he pulled out a small plastic contraption and placed it over the rim. He stuffed a coffee filter into it with practiced ease. Nicolette blinked, feeling a little foolish. How was she supposed to know they sold single-cup drip coffee gadgets? Without a word, Jake scooped some coffee grounds into the filter and slowly poured hot water over them. Dark, rich liquid pooled in the bottom of her cup, the scent of freshly brewed coffee cutting through the chilly morning air. ¡°Got any cream?¡± she asked hopefully. ¡°Nope. Sorry,¡± Jake replied without missing a beat. She shrugged, unbothered. Creamless coffee was better than no coffee. Wrapping her hands around the warm cup, she sank back into her chair and took a cautious sip. The hot, bitter drink was a welcome relief against the cold that threatened to seep through her sweatpants and hoodie. Meanwhile, Jake got to his feet and started packing up his things, carefully stowing his gear into the gray tote. ¡°Looks like I¡¯ll be moving in today,¡± he said with a grin as he carried the tote over to the backside of her camping spot. True to his word, he really would be farther away. That was kind of funny. Nicolette chuckled softly, thanking him for the coffee and taking $15¡ªhis half of the camping fee. After a quick goodbye, she paid at the entrance and returned to her car, ready to head off to work. Settling into the driver¡¯s seat, she turned the key in the ignition. Instead of the engine roaring to life, it produced a grinding screech that made her wince. She tried again, but the same awful noise greeted her. ¡°Great,¡± she muttered, slumping forward against the steering wheel. ¡°Not again.¡± Jake, noticing her predicament, wandered over with a curious expression. ¡°Car trouble?¡± he asked, leaning casually against the doorframe. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s been doing this a lot lately.¡± Nicolette sighed.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°Sounds like your starter¡¯s dying. Give me a minute.¡± Jake crouched down and crawled halfway under the car. Two solid thuds reverberated through the car¡¯s interior. Their unexpected appearance caused Nicolette to jump. ¡°Okay, try it now. And, uh, promise you won¡¯t run me over while I¡¯m down here.¡± Nicolette grinned despite herself and turned the key. This time, the engine roared to life. ¡°How did you do that?¡± Jake shrugged, dusting off his hands as he stood up. ¡°You just have to beat the starter. I don¡¯t know why it works, but it does. For now, anyway. You should probably get it replaced soon, though.¡± ¡°How much does one of those cost?¡± she asked. ¡°About a hundred bucks, give or take,¡± Jake replied. ¡°And the labor?¡± He shrugged again. ¡°No idea. I¡¯ve always replaced mine on my own.¡± Nicolette tilted her head, a mischievous glint in her eye. ¡°Would you replace mine if I batted my eyelashes really cutely?¡± She gave an exaggerated flutter of her lashes for effect. Jake chuckled, giving her a noncommittal ¡°Maybe.¡± She laughed and fastened her seatbelt. ¡°Thank you, Jake. You may have just saved me from being late to work. I just got the job.¡± ¡°No problem,¡± he said. *** "Morning, Cheryl," Nicolette said as she meandered to her cubicle, balancing a cup of lukewarm coffee in one hand and her bag in the other. "Morning," Cheryl mumbled back without looking up from her screen, fingers already flying across the keyboard. Nicolette sank into her chair, turning on her computer with a practiced motion. She unrolled the morning¡¯s map and carefully weighed down the corners with whatever was handy¡ªher stapler, a water bottle, and a pen holder¡ªso it wouldn¡¯t curl back up. "Morning," came the familiar, tired voice of Sam as he shuffled past. The usual chorus of greetings followed from the nearby cubicles. Sam seemed like a decent guy¡ªinto online video games and every local sports team imaginable. He was friendly without being awkward around the women, which Nicolette appreciated. Still, she couldn¡¯t help but hold her breath as he walked by. Nice guy, but he was fat and smelled like he hadn¡¯t taken a shower in a while. "Morning, Red," Cheryl said cheerfully as Lucy, the cute little half-elf with vibrant red hair, strolled in quietly. "Oh, good morning, Cheryl. Morning, Nicolette," Lucy replied, her voice soft but bright, carrying a natural warmth that made her easy to like. "Morning, Luce," Nicolette said, completing the still new daily ritual. Nicolette hadn¡¯t even worked here a full week yet, but she was already absorbed into the office¡¯s routines and customs. She clocked in, opened the D2L program, and began the mind-numbing task of updating city maps with cable line information. It was a tedious job¡ªrepetitive, dull, and utterly unremarkable¡ªbut for now, it was steady work. *** "Would you like your trees removed?" Jake asked, his tone light and casual as he approached the old man retrieving his mail. The man turned, giving Jake a perplexed look. "What?" Jake offered a self-deprecating smile. "Sorry, bad joke. You¡¯ve got trees growing out of your gutters. If you¡¯ve got a working hose spigot, I can clean them out for you. Not today, though," he added, lifting his bucket slightly. "On dog poop clean-up duty right now." The old man glanced back at his house, narrowing his eyes as he took in the state of his eaves troughs. "Huh. I do have trees in the gutters." Jake fought the urge to laugh. "How much?" "$150," Jake said, keeping his voice steady. The man made a show of considering the offer, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Jake had a feeling those gutters had been on a long-neglected to-do list. "Hmmm, front and back?" "Yes, sir." "When?" "Tomorrow." "Sure, then," the old man said with a nod. Jake returned the nod. "See you tomorrow, then." *** Nicolette pulled her car into the camping spot a few hours after dark, exhaustion weighing heavily on her after finishing her second job. The familiar growl of her stomach reminded her of how little she had eaten, and with a resigned sigh, she rummaged through a box until she found a pouch of tuna. Unappealing as it was, it would have to do¡ªhunger didn¡¯t leave room for picky choices. As she sat in the dim glow of her car¡¯s interior light, she noticed that Jake wasn¡¯t visible tonight. His little camp setup, however, had expanded¡ªhe now had a tent and a second tote added to his collection of worldly possessions. The sight made her wonder briefly how he managed to improve his situation so quickly. Nicolette finished her sad excuse for a meal, crumpling the empty pouch into a ball and tossing it into a bag. She grabbed her things and trudged over to the smelly concrete block bathrooms, the chill of the night air biting through her hoodie. On her way back to the car, she grumbled to herself about how much she hated sleeping in a cramped backseat. Maybe she should get a tent. At least then she¡¯d be able to stretch out properly and avoid waking up stiff and sore. With that thought lingering, she climbed into the car, closed the door with a weary sigh, and prepared for another uncomfortable night. 03 Day 003 re-write Aluminum ladders had their pros and cons. On the pro side, they were cheap and light¡ªtwo qualities Jake greatly appreciated, given his limited budget and the fact that he was walking everywhere. Carrying a fiberglass ladder would have left him exhausted before even reaching his first job of the day. The downside, however, was that aluminum ladders were cheaply built. They occasionally folded under stress. Jake would never forget the first time he saw it happen. His father had been coming down a ladder after a job, and just as he hit the fourth step from the ground, the base gave out. In a panic, Jake had rushed forward, instinctively trying to catch him¡ªa move that would have likely hurt them both. Instead, his father had leapt down in one swift motion, gracefully landing before shoving the ladder to the side to prevent it from falling on top of them. It wasn¡¯t a particularly good job to begin with, things only got worse. The very next day, one of his father¡¯s employees stepped onto an unsupported board and fell two stories. Miraculously, the man wasn¡¯t seriously injured, but the falling board landed small-end first on his palm, earning him a few stitches and a tetanus shot. Since then, Jake had made it a personal rule to avoid steep roofs¡ªbetter to leave those jobs to specialized companies with proper safety equipment.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. Finishing the job at the old man¡¯s house, Jake pocketed $150 and shouldered his aluminum ladder. With his tools in hand, he started down the street, eyes scanning for other houses in desperate need of gutter cleaning. He stopped at the corner, his attention drawn to a neglected two-story home across the street. The shingles were flaking, the worn blue siding looked like it hadn¡¯t seen a fresh coat of paint in decades, and the overgrown grass suggested it hadn¡¯t been cut even once since the snow melted. Jake crossed the street and eyed the ¡°For Sale by Owner¡± sign planted in the front yard. As usual, there was no price listed¡ªjust a phone number. The house looked rough, and even if he could scrape together a down payment, he knew he wouldn¡¯t qualify for a loan without pay stubs and a solid job history. He sighed, pushing the thought aside. No sense dwelling on something he couldn¡¯t afford, at least not yet. Moving on, he continued down the street until he found a single-story brown house with a simple roof plan. The eaves troughs were overflowing with leaves and debris, clearly long overdue for cleaning. He knocked firmly on the front door and waited, hopeful for another job 04 Day 005 re-write "So, not a creeper?" Cheryl asked as Nicolette meandered to her cubicle, her tone playful but curious. "Not at all. I guess he could be leering at me while I sleep, but I don¡¯t think so," Nicolette replied with a smirk. "Honestly, I''d assume he was gay if I didn¡¯t know he just got divorced. Then again, that might be the reason." She thumbed on her computer, the screen flickering to life. "You should have met my last boss. He was the definition of sexual harassment." Before Cheryl could respond, Nicolette turned toward Lucy. "What¡¯s up, Red? You look like you have a question." "Oh, ah?" Lucy stammered in her usual shy tone, clearly surprised to have been noticed. "It¡¯s just¡­ do you really live in your car?" "Until I can afford a cheap apartment," Nicolette said with a shrug, as if it wasn¡¯t a big deal. Before the conversation could continue, their boss appeared, interrupting with his usual no-nonsense attitude. "And speaking of affording things¡­" he said, dropping an envelope on Cheryl¡¯s desk. "Thank you," Cheryl said cheerfully, her face lighting up¡ªeveryone loved payday. "Nicolette, it¡¯s only a week¡¯s worth. Next payday should be double. Fitting in well, though," he said as he placed an envelope on her desk. He moved on, leaning over Lucy¡¯s cubicle. "Lucy." A few more steps down the aisle, and he dropped the last envelope. "And Sam. I got the Shentell maps up now, so there¡¯s plenty of work to do." Nicolette let out a sigh of relief as her boss headed back to his office. She picked up the envelope and opened it, revealing a check worth actual money. A grin spread across her face as she thought to herself, No more canned sausages. *** Nicolette tried not to let the cold, steady rain bother her. It soaked into her hoodie and made the ground muddy, which meant her car would be a mess by morning. She noticed that Jake¡¯s tent had moved since yesterday. Its original spot was now occupied by a sizable puddle, while its new position had a tarp stretched overhead, creating a small patch of dry ground in front of the tent¡¯s open flap. Inside, Jake was hunched over, fiddling with a cell phone. ¡°Hey,¡± Nicolette called, stepping carefully into the dry patch and holding up a bag of food containers. ¡°It¡¯s payday. I bought Sorjev. Want some?¡±Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! Jake looked up, a slightly confused expression crossing his face before he nodded. ¡°Oh, ah, sure.¡± He tossed the phone aside and leaned forward to unzip the tent enough for her to squeeze inside. Nicolette dropped to her knees, struggling to kick off her wet shoes without toppling over. Jake reached out and took the bag from her, freeing her hands to finish fumbling with the tent¡¯s zipper. By the time she turned around, Jake had scooted back and placed the bag on a plastic tote serving as a makeshift table. She shifted onto her ass and began unloading the contents. ¡°You didn¡¯t have to include me in this,¡± Jake said, watching as she revealed dumplings and several containers of sauced meats. ¡°Eh, first payday in this town. Didn¡¯t have anyone else to celebrate with.¡± ¡°Oh? Where you from?¡± Nicolette handed him a plastic fork. ¡°Palisade. You?¡± ¡°Greenbrush.¡± She nodded as she bit into a strip of spicy pork. Between chews, she pointed the business end of her fork at him. ¡°So, what do you do all day? Pretty sure you don¡¯t need a ladder to beg on the street corner.¡± Jake chuckled. ¡°Handyman stuff. Cleaning gutters and dog shit right now.¡± Nicolette snorted. ¡°How¡¯s that pay?¡± ¡°Fifty bucks for dog shit. A hundred and fifty for gutters.¡± ¡°How many gutter jobs have you gotten?¡± ¡°Four yesterday. Only two the day before.¡± Nicolette paused mid-chew. ¡°That¡¯s almost more than I make in a week. Hell, you did make more. Damn.¡± Jake laughed quietly. ¡°For now. Didn¡¯t do anything today, but I got a phone now. Might head to the library tomorrow to print some flyers. Can¡¯t set up an actual business until I have an address, though.¡± Nicolette switched to the peanut chicken, chewing thoughtfully before deciding it was delicious. ¡°What do you need for a business?¡± ¡°Insurance, mostly. Some paperwork with the Polei, maybe a permit from the city. All that needs a license, a phone number, and an address. Right now, I¡¯m just short the address.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve got a few more weeks before I can start looking for a cheap apartment. Really looking forward to not sleeping in my car anymore.¡± Jake nodded, taking a bite of his dumpling. ¡°Yeah. I¡¯d prefer a house, but I don¡¯t have the work history or down payment to even think about buying one.¡± ¡°Ha, I¡¯ve never had that much saved up¡ªor a stable enough life to think about owning a home. Not sure what I¡¯d even do with one.¡± ¡°I¡¯d fix it up, rent it out, or sell it. Then buy another.¡± ¡°Well, let me know when you¡¯ve got a place to rent,¡± Nicolette said, dipping her jerk chicken into one of the sauces. Jake grinned. ¡°Sure, but I doubt I¡¯ll find you here when I¡¯m ready for that.¡± ¡°Not going to ask for my number?¡± she teased, raising an eyebrow. ¡°Didn¡¯t want to imply interest in dating. Think I¡¯d like to stay single for a year, or two, or six.¡± Nicolette snorted. ¡°Fuck, I hear you there. Last girlfriend was a bitch. I¡¯m fucking terrible with relationships.¡± Jake raised his dumpling in a mock toast. ¡°Here¡¯s to avoiding relationship bullshit, then.¡± Nicolette lifted her own dumpling. ¡°Aye aye.¡± 05 Day 012: re-write Jake stopped in his tracks. The ¡°For Sale by Owner¡± sign caught his attention just as he was chuckling at the hole in the wall beneath the eave. He hadn¡¯t realized he was walking down the same street he¡¯d passed nearly a week ago when he first noticed this beat-up blue house. This time, he was approaching from the opposite direction, but the house looked just as bad¡ªif not worse. The grass was wildly overgrown, the hole in the wall looked large enough for a family of squirrels to come and go freely, and the shingles were in terrible shape. On a whim, Jake pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number on the sign. Unsurprisingly, no one picked up. ¡°Hey, my name¡¯s Jake Carter. I was wondering what¡¯s up with the blue house on Saint¡¯s End¡ª602, I think. How much are you asking, and what kind of shape is it in?¡± He left the message and pocketed his phone, continuing down the street. As he passed the side of the house, he took a closer look. The rear porch steps were rotting and looked ready to collapse, and the narrow single-stall garage which seemed barely capable of fitting a car was leaning slightly as though it might topple over at any moment. Jake¡¯s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out to see an incoming call. ¡°Well, that didn¡¯t take long,¡± he muttered before answering. ¡°This is Jake.¡± ¡°Hey, you called about the house in Devil¡¯s Peak? 602 Saint¡¯s End?¡± the voice on the other end said. That caught Jake¡¯s attention. The guy had specified Devil¡¯s Peak, which meant he either wasn¡¯t local or had multiple properties for sale in different towns. ¡°Yeah. How much are you asking, and what¡¯s wrong with it?¡± ¡°It¡¯s being sold as-is. Twenty thousand, but the roof needs work, there¡¯s a hole in the upstairs wall, and the pipes froze and burst over the winter.¡± Jake frowned thoughtfully. ¡°Huh. I suppose you can¡¯t sell it through a conventional bank loan without fixing it up first?¡± ¡°Right.¡± ¡°And you probably don¡¯t have the money to handle that many repairs?¡± ¡°That¡¯s correct.¡± Jake nodded to himself. ¡°Hmm. I¡¯d like to see how bad it is.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve got a guy who can show it to you if you¡¯re serious.¡± ¡°Yeah, I don¡¯t have twenty K in my back pocket right now, but it¡¯s just a matter of time, and I¡¯ve got a few other ideas that might work.¡± There was a pause on the other end of the line, long enough for Jake to guess that the guy was weighing his options. Jake had been upfront about not having the money yet, but he¡¯d left enough of a maybe to keep hope alive. ¡°I¡¯ll send Mike your number. He¡¯ll reach out when he¡¯s got time to show you the place.¡± ¡°Sounds good. Thanks.¡± Jake hung up, glancing back at the house one last time. It looked like a wreck, but something about it tugged at him. Maybe, just maybe, it was the kind of project he could turn into an opportunity. *** Mike had time a couple of hours later. After a few back-and-forth texts, Jake found himself meeting a heavyset human man with a pudgy red face. He tried not to form an opinion too quickly. After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Mike unlocked the door and gestured for Jake to step inside. The front door opened directly into the kitchen. To the right was a countertop, its colorful veneer peeling away from the particleboard beneath, especially around the sink. The sink itself was still filled with dirty dishes, crusted over as if they had been there for months. The flooring consisted of peel-and-stick tiles, but to Jake¡¯s surprise, it felt solid and level enough beneath his boots. To the left stood an old, faded yellow table piled high with mail. Four chairs surrounded it¡ªone had a worn cushion, while the others looked like they hadn¡¯t been touched in years. ¡°What exactly is up with this place?¡± Jake asked, eyeing the state of disrepair. ¡°Ah, Pete¡¯s mother got real sick late last fall,¡± Mike explained. ¡°She was in the hospital for months and didn¡¯t make it through the winter. Pete lives in the city and hasn¡¯t left it in twenty years.¡±This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°Shit, that sucks,¡± Jake said, stepping into the living room. The ancient carpet was worn down to bare threads in a path leading from the kitchen to the bathroom. A bed sat in one corner, making it clear that the older woman had stopped climbing the stairs long ago. The bathroom needed work. The floor was soft near the base of the toilet, and several tiles around the tub looked ready to fall off. Jake took note of the repairs as he continued upstairs, finding three small rooms. Two of them were filled with boxes, likely containing the remnants of the previous occupant¡¯s life. The third room, the one with the hole in the wall, held a small bed, a truly ancient TV, and a rundown dresser. The plaster was cracked in several places, and the carpet was filthy, particularly around the hole, but despite the mess, the structure seemed stable. ¡°Where¡¯s the basement?¡± Jake asked as he descended back to the first floor. ¡°Ah, over here, I think,¡± Mike said, walking back into the kitchen and opening what looked like a closet door. Behind it was a narrow, rickety staircase leading downward. Jake turned on the flashlight on his phone and carefully made his way down. Calling it a basement felt generous. The floor was packed dirt, and the ceiling was so low he had to duck his head. The furnace looked old but functional. The water heater, however, was in terrible shape, bulging ominously and surrounded by discolored stains that indicated it had failed when the pipes froze. Jake scanned the space, taking it all in. The house was old, and whoever built it had clearly cut corners, especially with this half-basement, half-crawl space. Still, for twenty thousand, it might be worth the gamble. ¡°Alright, I think I¡¯ve seen enough. I¡¯ll give the guy a call back,¡± Jake said, turning off his flashlight. ¡°Think you¡¯ll buy it?¡± Mike asked, locking the door behind them as they stepped outside. ¡°Maybe,¡± Jake replied with a shrug. ¡°Money¡¯s the issue. Can¡¯t get a loan, but I¡¯ll see if I can work something out.¡± *** "Would you consider renting it out for six months?" Jake asked, leaning against the rickety shed/garage thing. "What do you mean?" Pete¡¯s voice on the other end sounded skeptical. "Not a lot of people have twenty K in their pocket, plus the extra cash needed to make the place livable," Jake explained. "I¡¯m thinking I could rent it for up to six months¡ªsay, three hundred a month. During that time, I¡¯ll fix up the pipes and handle whatever¡¯s necessary to live there. Even if I can¡¯t come up with the full amount to buy it after six months, the place will be in better shape, and you¡¯ll have an easier time selling it." There was a pause on the line as Jake waited for Pete¡¯s response. "I¡¯ll have to think about it," Pete said after a moment. "Sure, no rush. You¡¯ve got my number," Jake replied, keeping his tone casual. He ended the call and glanced back at the house, already weighing the risks and possibilities in his mind. *** Nicolette pulled out her folding chair, snapped it open, and slumped into it with a tired sigh. She glanced over at Jake, who was engrossed in a phone call. ¡°Hmmm. I need money to replace pipes and fix the hole and such. How about four hundred... Right¡­ I can get a contract drafted up¡­ Sure, what¡¯s your address¡­ Oh wow.¡± Nicolette noticed Jake¡¯s eyebrows shoot up in surprise as he scribbled something in the small notebook he kept in his pocket. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll message you tomorrow¡­ Sounds good¡­ Bye¡­¡± Jake ended the call and turned his attention to her. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± Nicolette held up a package of sausages. ¡°Wanted to use your camp stove, if that¡¯s okay?¡± ¡°Yeah, sure.¡± Jake ducked into his tent to grab the stove, giving Nicolette a moment to admire the view of his ass before he re-emerged and set it on a tote next to her. He slumped into his own chair, stretching out his legs. ¡°So,¡± Jake started as Nicolette fired up the stove, ¡°how¡¯s the cheap apartment search going?¡± ¡°Ehh, the cheapest place I found is six hundred a month, but I need first and last month¡¯s rent plus a security deposit. Why?¡± ¡°What about two hundred a month and half the utilities?¡± Nicolette arched an eyebrow. ¡°Seriously? What¡¯s the catch?¡± ¡°Several catches. First, you¡¯d have a roommate. Second, the place is a mess and needs a thorough cleaning. Third, there¡¯s no working water right now. It¡¯d basically be like living here, except in a building¡­ for a little while.¡± Nicolette leaned back in her chair, considering the offer. Jake could practically see the gears turning in her head. Two hundred was less than two weeks of renting a camping spot together¡ªless than a week renting alone. The conditions wouldn¡¯t be great, but financially, it made a lot of sense. ¡°I¡¯m willing to look at it,¡± she said after a thoughtful pause. Jake gave her a nod. ¡°It¡¯ll be a few days before it¡¯s ready.¡± ¡°What did the guy on the phone say? You looked surprised.¡± ¡°Oh, his address is in the city.¡± ¡°What city?¡± ¡°The city,¡± Jake replied, as if it should have been obvious. ¡°Helenapolis?¡± Nicolette asked, her voice reflecting the same surprise Jake must have felt when he heard it. ¡°Yep.¡± ¡°That¡¯s fucking crazy. Why¡¯s a guy who lives in an arcology got a house way out here?¡± ¡°His mom lived here.¡± ¡°Huh.¡± A comfortable silence settled between them as Nicolette focused on cooking, and they both found themselves contemplating the sheer absurdity of arcologies and the strange lives of the people who lived in them. 06 Day 018: re-write 06 Day 018: Nicolette descended the narrow staircase into the living room, surveying the scene. The place was, without question, a mess. Piles of clutter, peeling paint, and scattered debris gave it a distinctly neglected feel. Still, for two hundred bucks a month and half the utilities, she figured she could live with the mess for six months. The lack of a working toilet, however, didn¡¯t inspire the same enthusiasm. ¡°Is it electric or gas?... Is there a large breaker box for it, or a pipe that runs into the ceiling above it?¡± Jake was saying into his phone, leaning against the counter as he spoke. Nicolette wandered over to the large front window, absently gazing out at the houses across the street while half-listening to his conversation. ¡°And there¡¯s nothing wrong with the old one?... Okay. I¡¯d call the local home improvement store, tell them exactly what you need, and make sure they know it¡¯s electric and what the breaker size is¡­ Right, double 40¡­ Yep. Have them deliver it and send me a message. I¡¯ll do it for a hundred bucks and the old one¡­ Yes¡­ I really need one right now, so it¡¯s a win-win¡­ Right¡­ Talk to you later¡­ Yeah, thanks.¡± Jake ended the call and looked up at her. ¡°Well?¡± ¡°Sure is a mess,¡± Nicolette replied, folding her arms. ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°What about the water?¡± she asked. Jake pointed to the table piled high with tubes and a bucket of tools. ¡°I¡¯ll get cold water running today. Hot water might take a bit longer.¡± Nicolette gave a measured nod. As long as the toilet and sink worked, she could deal with the rest of the mess. It wasn¡¯t ideal, but it meant she could spend her money on a real bed instead of saving up for an overpriced apartment. ¡°You get the toilet and sink working, and I¡¯m in.¡± ¡°All-righty,¡± Jake said, grabbing the bucket and the tubes. He made his way to a nearby closet, opening it to reveal a narrow set of stairs leading down into a dingy-looking basement. ¡°Want some help?¡± Nicolette offered. She¡¯d already finished work for the day and had the evening free from her second job. Jake paused, then shrugged. ¡°I won¡¯t say no. It¡¯ll definitely go faster with someone to hold the light.¡± Once they were both under the house, Jake dropped the tubes onto the ground and handed Nicolette a flashlight. She expected him to follow the network of pipes above their heads, but instead, he made his way over to the electrical box. Nicolette almost giggled at the way Jake had to duck his head to avoid the low ceiling but managed to hold it in. The tips of her horns barely missed a low-hanging pipe, and she realized that being a bit too tall could be just as inconvenient as being a bit too short in a space like this. ¡°See this wire?¡± Jake said, pointing at a thick copper wire that lacked the usual plastic insulation. ¡°We¡¯re looking for where it connects to the pipes.¡± ¡°Why would it connect to a pipe?¡± Nicolette asked, puzzled. Common sense told her that electricity and water weren¡¯t exactly a safe combination. ¡°It grounds the system,¡± Jake explained. ¡°They don¡¯t do it this way anymore, but it was common in older houses.¡± ¡°Is that it?¡± Nicolette asked, aiming the flashlight at a spot where the copper wire was clamped onto a pipe. ¡°That¡¯s it. Now let¡¯s follow the pipe back to the main shutoff. We just need to make sure everything¡¯s properly connected.¡± They carefully made their way along the pipe, which grew thicker as they moved closer to the main waterline. The space was cramped, and Nicolette had to crouch awkwardly, mindful of the uneven dirt floor and low-hanging obstacles. ¡°Good. No problems there,¡± Jake said with a nod, satisfied as they reached the main shutoff valve. Jake placed a small red tool onto the pipe above the valve, tightened the screw mechanism, and began rotating it around the pipe. ¡°What are you doing?¡± Nicolette asked, watching curiously. ¡°Cutting the pipe. Can you find the sandpaper? Should be in the bucket somewhere.¡± Nicolette rummaged through the bucket, pulling out various tools she didn¡¯t recognize until she finally found the sandpaper. Meanwhile, Jake finished cutting through the pipe, the two sections snapping apart cleanly. He took the sandpaper and rubbed the lower end of the cut pipe until it gleamed.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Once the pipe was cleaned, Jake pressed a small coupling with brass ends onto the freshly sanded pipe. ¡°I need those clamps now.¡± ¡°Clamps?¡± Nicolette asked, glancing into the bucket. Jake leaned over, pulling out two copper clamps and a small roll of the thick copper wire that ran from the electrical box to the pipes. He clamped one end of the wire to the lower section of the pipe and the other end to the section he had just cut. ¡°We need to keep the electrical system grounded properly.¡± Nicolette nodded in acknowledgment, though he couldn¡¯t see her with the flashlight pointed elsewhere. ¡°Okay, now we take this three-quarter inch pipe,¡± Jake said, picking up a roll of blue tubing and walking over to the damaged water heater. ¡°Can you hold this while I run it over the existing pipes?¡± Nicolette grabbed the roll as Jake took the end, threading it over and around the old pipes. She unraveled the tubing as he worked his way back to the water valve, where he shoved the tube into the coupling he had installed earlier. ¡°Alright, can you dig my finger cutters out of the bucket?¡± Jake asked as he grabbed a brass fitting from its packaging. ¡°Finger cutters?¡± Nicolette repeated, hoping that wasn¡¯t what the tool was actually called. Jake chuckled. ¡°They¡¯re red, with a large blade on one side.¡± She found the tool and handed it to him, eyeing it warily¡ªit did look like it could take a finger off. Jake snipped the blue tubing effortlessly, the tool cutting through it like warm butter. ¡°Okay, this is a three-quarter inch ring,¡± he said, holding up a black metal piece that resembled a crude ring. ¡°I¡¯ll need another one in a minute.¡± Jake slid the ring onto the tube, shoved the brass fitting into the open end, and used a large, pliers-like tool to crimp the ring tightly in place. ¡°Ring, please.¡± Nicolette handed him another ring, and he repeated the process on the other side of the fitting, securing it firmly. ¡°Why¡¯d you cut the pipe just to clamp it back together?¡± she asked, frowning slightly. Jake rotated the fitting, pointing to a smaller branch extending from it. ¡°This line goes to the kitchen sink.¡± ¡°Ah, I didn¡¯t see that side,¡± Nicolette said, nodding in understanding. Nicolette followed Jake back to the other end of the basement, where he attached a similar fitting to the pipe, finishing it off with a valve. They then ran a thinner blue tube from the fitting toward the bathtub area. ¡°Can you go upstairs? Next to the toilet is this pipe.¡± He tapped the copper pipe he was working on. ¡°Pull it out and put the blue one I have up there through the same hole.¡± Nicolette gave him a quick nod and a word of acknowledgment before heading up to the main floor. She located the pipe next to the toilet and carefully pulled it out, replacing it with the blue tube Jake had left next to the hole. ¡°Do you want me to come back down?¡± she called out through the floor. ¡°No, one minute¡­ Open the vanity.¡± Nicolette moved over to the sink cabinet and opened the doors. One of the pipes beneath the sink was shifting. A moment later, it fell loose before being pushed back up from below. ¡°Can you grab that?¡± Jake¡¯s muffled voice came from beneath the floor. Nicolette complied, pulling the old pipe out. She was momentarily surprised when a blue pipe snaked up from underneath, neatly replacing the old one. She held it steady as Jake secured it from below. The next pipe over started moving, and she pulled it out when it came loose. This time, however, no new pipe appeared to replace it. She waited a moment, but no further instructions came. She met Jake at the stairs just as he was coming up. ¡°What¡¯s next?¡± she asked. Jake rubbed the back of his neck, glancing around. ¡°Hmm, wanna start unpacking that box?¡± He pointed to a large cardboard box with a picture of a toilet on it. ¡°The old one¡¯s probably fine, but that¡¯s not something I want to gamble on.¡± Nearly as soon as Nicolette had unpacked all the small toilet components and laid them out neatly on the kitchen table, Jake came through carrying half of the old toilet. ¡°Door, please,¡± he grunted. Nicolette quickly opened the door, and Jake hauled the old toilet outside before grabbing the new porcelain throne on his way back in. ¡°That small box there¡ªgrab that,¡± he said, nodding toward a smaller package with additional parts. Jake scraped away a disgusting, goopy residue from the waste pipe before opening the small box and pulling out a new wax ring. He pressed the fresh ring onto the base of the new toilet bowl, rotated it to line up with the bolts, and carefully set it down over the hole, pressing down to create a seal. Once it was in place, he began tightening the bolts to secure it. ¡°Wanna grab the tank and the bag of hardware?¡± Jake asked. ¡°Yeah, sure,¡± Nicolette replied, grabbing the tank and the bag of parts from the kitchen table. With the tank mounted, they connected a tube to the pipe they had installed earlier, and Jake assembled the flushing mechanism. He carefully turned on the water, while Nicolette stayed upstairs with instructions to yell if anything started spraying water. To their relief, everything stayed dry. They both watched as the toilet filled up and flushed properly. Jake gave the pipes a final inspection, checking for any leaks. ¡°All right. A few more fittings, and I¡¯ll have the sinks working,¡± Jake said, satisfied. ¡°Get me the ability to take a hot shower, and I¡¯ll blow you,¡± Nicolette joked with a smirk. Jake laughed. ¡°Don¡¯t make promises you don¡¯t intend to keep. I was just talking to a guy who wants his water heater replaced. The old one still works¡ªit¡¯s just too small. On that note, would you be willing to drive there and help me haul it back here? I can¡¯t exactly carry a water heater down the street.¡± Nicolette chuckled at the mental image of Jake struggling with a bulky water heater on the sidewalk. ¡°Yeah, sure. If it gets me a shower here instead of at the gym, I¡¯m in.¡±