Get to the house

As you pull up to your apartment complex, you see your landlord, Mr. Thompson, standing outside the entrance, looking angry. Your heart sinks as you realize you're late. You quickly park your car and get out, trying to compose yourself before approaching him.

"Hi, Mr. Thompson," you say, trying to sound as confident as possible. He looks at you with a stern expression, his arms crossed over his chest.

"You're late," he says, his voice clipped. "I've been waiting here for ten minutes."

You feel a wave of guilt wash over you. "I'm so sorry, I got caught up in some traffic," you explain, trying to placate him. But Mr. Thompson's expression doesn't change. He doesn't seem to care about your apology or your excuse.

"Do you have my money for rent?" he asks gruffly, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looks at you.

You feel a wave of guilt wash over you, but then you remember that you did give the money to Brian, your roommate, to give to Mr. Thompson.

"What do you mean I gave the money to Brian?" you ask, surprised.

Mr. Thompson looks at you with a smirk. "You finally gave him all of the money for six months that you owe me."

"What? No, I gave him the money for this month's rent," you say, feeling a sense of panic rising in your chest.

"That's not what Brian told me," Mr. Thompson says, his expression unreadable. "He said you've been struggling to come up with the money for months now, and that you asked him to pay for you."

"That's not true," you say, your voice shaking. "I don't know why he would say that."

Mr. Thompson shrugs. "I don't know, and I don't care. You're late with the rent, and you owe me a lot of money. I can't keep waiting around for you to pay me."

You feel a surge of anger and frustration, as you dial your roommate there must be some mistake.

You quickly pull out your phone and scroll through your contacts, your fingers trembling with anxiety as you search for Brian's name. You finally find it and tap the screen to initiate the call, waiting anxiously for him to pick up.

But instead of Brian's voice, you're met with a monotone automated message. "The number you are trying to reach is no longer in service. Please check the number and try again." You try calling again, but the same message plays. You feel a wave of unease wash over you as you realize that Brian's phone is disconnected.

A sense of dread creeps up your spine as you wonder what's going on. Why would Brian's phone be disconnected?

You try to shake off the feeling of unease, telling yourself that it's probably just a minor issue with his phone service. But as you stand there, trying to process what's happening, a nagging thought begins to form in the back of your mind. You think back to all the times Brian had asked to borrow money, all the times he had promised to pay you back but never did. You think about how you'd been struggling to make ends meet, how you'd been counting on Brian to pay his share of the rent. And then it hits you: what if Brian has been stealing from you?

You feel a wave of anger and betrayal wash over you as you realize that it's a very real possibility.

You try to process this new information, but your thoughts are interrupted by Mr. Thompson's stern voice.

"Listen, I don't have all day to stand here and talk to you. If you don't have the money, I need to start the eviction process," he says, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looks at you.

You feel a surge of panic as you realize the gravity of the situation. "No, wait, please don't do that," you plead, trying to think of a solution. "I'll get the money, I promise. Just give me a few days."

Mr. Thompson shakes his head. "I've given you plenty of chances already. It's too bad Brian moved out, he was the only one around here who ever paid rent on time." He spits the words out, his expression a mixture of annoyance and frustration.

You feel a wave of anger wash over you at the mention of Brian's name. "That's not fair, I've been paying my share too," you protest, trying to keep your voice steady. But Mr. Thompson just shrugs.

"Not according to Brian, you haven't. He said you've been struggling to come up with your half of the rent for months now. And now, with him gone, I'm left with a tenant who can't pay." He looks at you with a disapproving gaze.

His words cut deep, and you can feel your eyes welling up with tears. You try to hold them back, but it's too late. A single drop rolls down your cheek, followed by another, and another. Before you know it, you're sobbing uncontrollably, your body shaking with each gasping breath. The hallway, once a neutral space, now feels oppressive and cold as you stand there, exposed and **** in front of your landlord.

Mr. Thompson smirks and leers at your tight body, "Maybe if you take care of me I can give you a month."