If Only There Was Some Other Way I Could Pay

"Hanna! Malik!" Aaliyah called out. "Breakfast!"

She scooped the eggs she'd been cooking out of the pan and ladled them out onto a plate, which she in turn set on the dining room table. Hanna breezed into the room and sat down, tearing off a piece of bread which she proceeded to eat while loading up her plate.

Aaliyah snatched it out of her mouth. "Don't eat like an animal. Eat off your plate."

"Yes, mother," Hanna said with some degree of exasperation.

"And watch your tone."

"Yes, mother."

Aaliyah narrowed her eyes. That hadn't been much better. But Hanna was already setting into the meal. "So," Aaliyah asked, "what's on your agenda for the day."

Hanna dutifully rattled off her schedule. "Class at ten, piano lessons at one, and I'm going to go shopping with some friends later in the afternoon."

Aaliyah frowned. "With Jessica?"

"Yes, mom. With Jessica."

"I don't like her very much. She isn't a good influence."

"I'm nineteen mom, you don't need to police me like when I was a teenager."

"You still are a teenager."

"You know what I mean."

Aaliyah let it go. Hanna had a point of course, but she still didn't like these new friends that she'd made at college. Jessica was the worst of them. That one had no respect. Aaliyah counted herself lucky that Hanna still wore her hijab. Not that their family was particularly religious, but you didn't need religion to tell you to value modesty. Some things were just proper.

"How is that Chopin piece coming along?" Aaliyah asked.

"It's getting there."

"Do you think you'll be ready to perform it soon?" Aaliyah loved her daughter's performances. Few things made her as happy. Maybe she was biased, but in her opinion Hanna was quite the talent.

"Another few weeks, then yeah. I think so."

"Good. Have your teacher reach out to me and I can help coordinate a venue."

Hanna sighed, but didn't push the issue.

"What is keeping your father. Malik!" she shouted. Hanna flinched. "Malik! Breakfast is READY!"

"I'm here, I'm here," he said, walking into the room and taking a seat. He still spoke in a thick accent. Aaliyah didn't understand why he didn't try harder. They had come to the country together after all, and by now she'd managed to reducer he accent to what she expected was merely a pleasant exoticism. She wished he'd at least try to do the same. Hanna, of course, had been raised here and had no accent at all.

"I need you to go down to the building on Garden Street today," Malik said. "Unit 203 still hasn't payed their rent."

"That one is always late. This is the third time in a row," Aaliyah told him.

"This time later than most. Tell him he needs to pay or we evict him."

Aaliyah made a sound of acknowledgment, then finished up her breakfast.

***

"Mr. Wilkens," Aaliyah said, "I don't know your finances. But that isn't my problem. The rent was due a week ago."

"And I'm telling you I don't have it. You have wax in your ears?"

Aaliyah scowled. She was quite good at it. "You are too short of a man to go throwing insults around. And you smell like a wet towel left out in the sun. You owe rent, and you will pay it, or you will be evicted."

The man stood in his doorway and sputtered. "I don't have it, woman."

"You will have it in two days, or you will have no apartment to go with your no money."

The man let out a string of curses, which might have offended her if they came from someone who mattered more, then slammed the door in her face. Aaliyah smoothed down her dress. He'd pay. Probably. But just in case she would need to call a lawyer later to draft up the eviction paperwork.

She made her way further down the hallway. While she was here she might as well check in on the building's empty unit to make sure that no vermin or squatters had settled in. Sometimes local teens would break in and vandalize empty apartments. The youth these days were out of control, she mourned. Jessica had probably been one of those miscreants just a few years ago.

Aaliyah used her master key to open up the door, then stepped through. One flash of white light later and the door swung inward, exposing the empty room beyond to the equally empty hallway.

***

"Please welcome the third member of Trevor's harem, Aaliyah Jalal!"

Trevor had no idea who that was. It wasn't until the woman stormed her way past him that he recognized her. His landlady. Of all the people in the world, this fever dream of a show had chosen his landlady.

Aaliyah was thirty six years old and spoke with a light accent that which rapidly devolved when she got angry, which was something that Trevor had had reason to witness on several occasions. Trying to get her to fix their water heater had been a protracted battle.

No sooner had she taken her place in the recess than she started issuing demans. "You will tell me what the meaning of this is. Who are you."

Violet gave her an appraising look. "I am Violet, and I am your host," she replied calmly.

"I demand that you return me to my home. You have no right. No right," Aailyah spat. "Answer me! I demand that -".

Violet made a zipping motion with her hand and Aaliyah's blinked as she suddenly stopped talking. Her eyes grew wide, maybe with fear for a moment but then certainly with rage.

"Sorry my dear," Violet said. "Normally I'd love to let you introduce a little drama to the proceedings, but we have six more contestants to get to and we just don't have the time."

Violet turned back towards the 'audience', then did her usual spiel. "Aaliyah is one of the older contestants at thirty six years old. And don't let the frumpy dress fool you," she said. If looks could kill, the one Aaliyah shot Violet would have been a war crime. "Underneath it Aaliyah has more than enough to work with."

Trevor could actually attest to that. Once, he had seen her in a one-piece bathing suit spending the day with her family at his apartment complex's pool. Aaliyah was built like a pear, with wide hips and a plump rear. She didn't look bad for her age, and Trevor could imagine that in her prime she had been a real catch for Mr. Jalal. Since then she had gone a little soft but the extra weight did help out in some places. While Aaliyah's backside was certainly her main appeal her chest was pretty well endowed too. Her boobs were at least as big as Kaya's.

Not that she showed it off. Frumpy had been a good choice of words by Violet. Aaliyah tended to wear formless dresses in muted colors. She kept her hair tied back in a conservative braid, hidden underneath her hijab.

Pretty wouldn't have been exactly the right word for Aaliyah, but she was hardly unattractive. If she slimmed down some and wore some makeup she could probably look pretty good. Thirty six was hardly ancient, after all.

When Violet finished Aaliyah's introduction the woman just stood there staring her down. With a sigh, Violet made a shooing motion which finally **** Aaliyah to stomp her way over to her podium.

"With our fourth contestant, we're starting to get to people that Trevor knows a little bit better. Him and this girl have similar interests, although, he's never quite played for her team."