FicWad

Frank had asked me to meet him at the corner bakery, the one where they serve the caramel macchiatos that he was addicted to.

I knew exactly what this meeting was about. We had talked about moving in together, and I agreed as long as he found a studio apartment and could pay half the rent. Enthusiastically, he had nodded his head and went off to search for an apartment magazine.

My job as an artist wasn't going too well. I could barely afford the dinky little apartment in the ghetto that I was living in. Affording something of Frank's taste, even half of the rent, was going to be a little difficult.

"Hey there," I said, walking up to our usual table outside and kissing Frank on the cheek. His eyes widened in surprise.

"You're early," Frank replied, checking the time on his phone. He set it back down on the table and motioned for me to sit. Once I did, he handed me my favorite: a fudge brownie still hot and wrapped in plastic, meaning he didn't take any bites for himself. "I found an apartment."

"Already?" I asked. It had only been two days since I told him to look for one.

Frank nodded in excitement and pulled out a brochure of the most expensive looking complex I had ever seen. I snatched it out of his hand, my eyes as wide as saucers.

Wake up every morning next to Central Park in the heart of Manhattan, the brochure read on the front. A full size picture of the tower sat beneath the sentence.

"The studio isn't that expensive," Frank explained, leaning over the table to flip open the paper. My heart practically froze as I read the price.

"Three thousand dollars... a month!" I exclaimed, not even daring to read the three bedroom price. I sighed and put the brochure down on the table, unwrapping my brownie and taking a bite. "There's no way I can even afford a quarter of that price."

With Frank's successful job though, he could probably afford the entire portion of rent a month. He was currently making music and selling it through the internet, and he was very popular. He was scheduled to go on tour later that month.

"How long are you even going to be around later?" I asked, the question sounding more harsh than intended. "With your tour and all, you'll be gone for a few months. How will I pay it then."

Frank looked at me nervously, biting his lower lip. "I can pay all of the rent. And I can wire you the money when I'm gone."

I sat and thought about it, quietly munching on my afternoon snack. There's no way I could let him pay all the rent, including utilities and food and extras...

"Fine," I agreed reluctantly, watching passion fill his features.

"Excellent! It's not too far away, do you care to drive there?"

I had totally forgotten Frank had the luxury of a car while I had to take the transit everywhere. "Sure. But you're driving."

Frank snickered. "I wouldn't let you drive anyway, you crazy bastard."


A few minutes later and we're standing outside of the complex. It was much smaller than the picture intended.

The complex seemed to just be a building; no playground or outside area whatsoever. There was nowhere I could do some intense outside drawing. Luckily, Central Park was in walking distance, my favorite area to be inspired in.

"Do you like it?" Frank asked, picking up on my uncertainty. He peered over at me.

"I haven't seen the inside of it yet. That's all that matters," I replied, forcing myself to enjoy the atmosphere. At least there wasn't any kids or muggers running around.

We entered the building and I instantly awed at the lobby. Other than it looking like an office lobby, there were leather couches (the real kind) spread about next to flat screen televisions. Potted ferns and rose bushes were dotted all across the room, making it feel almost like a greenery.

The oversized elevators, big enough for furniture, carried us to the top floor, where we made one single turn to the right and was at the door. Frank suspiciously already had a key.

"I thought this was a tour or something?" I questioned, becoming more suspicious when the room appeared to be fully furnished. "Have you already moved in?!"

Frank hung a guilty expression across his face, then became ecstatic. "So maybe I've been living here longer than you know, so what? I've got everything you need here. You can leave your old, ratty life behind."

I took this as an insult. "Ratty? Just because you're so rich and famous, it means my life is ratty?"

Frank sighed. "That's not what I meant." He paused and gained life back into his face again. "There's something I want to show you."

Hidden in back of the bathroom's wall was a space specifically designed for an artist, complete with a drafting table and every piece of hardware I could ever imagine. There was a little gift box sitting on the table, waiting for me to tear it open.

"Go ahead, open it," Frank whispered in my ear, and I couldn't help but to become giddy about the idea of what was in the box.

I rushed over to the table and sat down in the stool, grabbing the box with both hands. I reached for the bow tied lid and took it off, revealing something inside.

"The pencils I wanted for my birthday," I gasped, remembering seeing them at the craft store and sighing at the extremely high price. "These were like fifty bucks!"

"Anything for my angel," Frank said sweetly, walking over to where I sat. He enveloped his arms around my shoulders and kissed me on the top of my head. "What do you say?"

I didn't have to think for a second. "Yes, I'll move in with you."