"So, this is it." It was an old building, one of the oldest in the county region, and not originally designed for apartment living but if you were a hipster or an artist you might just find the bare brick walls charming, so long as you overlooked the warped floorboards that creaked just about everywhere you stepped, only partially hidden beneath a thrift store rug. The furniture seemed nice if a bit sparse, with only one large couch in the living room and a couple of oversized pillows around the coffee table. A few storage shelves were tucked away against the far wall, and half the place was illuminated by randomly strung Christmas lights. "A few overhead bulbs are out. Landlord doesn't think he has to deal with them, and I don't have a ladder so…" The young man giving the tour gave a defeated wave of his hand accompanied by a fed-up eye roll. "Kitchen's this way," he directed his new prospector to the other side of the common space, where an old gas stove/oven, stainless steel sink, and wooden counters crowded around a refrigerator that seemed slightly out of place against the brick. An antique wooden table, covered in scratches and water ring stains, stood in stark contrast to the metal folding chairs sitting haphazardly around it. "I'm up there," he gestured toward the metal staircase leading up to a loft, "And here's your room." Bracing a shoulder against the old door, he gave it a solid shove, and wood scraped painfully on wood as it skidded stubbornly open. The inside was nearly bare, just a single-sized mattress on a dusty metal frame and a bureau of drawers. There wasn't even a closet. "Extra sheets, blankets and stuff are in that bin," he indicated the plastic storage box beside the bed. "You can do what you want with the room, just no holes in the wall, alright?" Stepping back into the living room, he gave a noncommittal shrug, glancing briefly at the effeminate man's face and then over at the wall. "I'm Eli, by the way. Your rent's $350, first Friday every month. There's some leftover pizza and beer in the fridge if you're hungry, but don't touch the other stuff. After today you buy your own groceries." After that he just seemed to be done talking, though he stood there for a few minutes watching his new housemate, sort of like how an ornery cat watches the neighbor's dog. Eli's most defining characteristic was probably the long brown hair that fell past his shoulders, but it was almost eclipsed by the hideous oversized sweater that hung loosely off his thin frame. It was hard to tell if he was annoyed, or if he just had an angry resting face. Then again he hadn't exactly been hospitable; hadn't even asked the new guy's name.