The Flat Share | WROETOSHAW

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"This is going to be impossible," I sighed, kicking my feet up on the sofa, "I knew London was going to be expensive but I didn't think I'd have to sell my soul for it."

"Elle, you're so dramatic," Jordan chuckled, "Have you ever considered just moving back home for a bit? You know, save some money?"

I'd been apartment hunting for the last week, with no luck, and crashing on my brother's airbed in the meantime; which I was grateful for, but my back certainly wasn't.

My decision to move to the big city probably wasn't the best timing, but after living away from home for three years for university, there was no way that I could just move back in with my parents. I love them, but once you get the taste of freedom, you've passed the point of no return.

I sat up promptly, "Believe me, I think it's better that I don't."

He shook his head and returned his attention to the football match on the TV, what is it with men and football? Can't take their eyes off of it for a moment.

I huffed and scrolled through my phone, once again scrolling through moving apps in hopes that the universe would be on my side and nice me by planting a gem in front of my face.

Too expensive.
Too far out.
Ugly.

My attention was diverted when I heard Jordan's phone vibrate, once, twice, three times.

"Jordan will you answer your damn phone!" I exclaimed, pointing at it, right beside him.

He reluctantly tore his eyes from the flatscreen and raised his brow at the name on screen, "Bro, long time. What's up?"

I tried to listen in, I'm nosy, I can't help it. But, with no luck, I decided to take a shower. Grabbing my duffel bag from beside the sofa, I carried it into the bathroom; took out my toiletries and a fresh set of joggers.

Pressing shuffle on my Spotify playlist, I set my phone down on the countertop and turned the shower on, getting in and adjusting to the temperature. Humming along to the songs, I jumped hearing the sound of Jordan screaming, they must've scored. Honestly, and I'm the dramatic one.

Jordan is a few years older than me, but we've always been relatively close. He studied in London and that's where he stayed, I don't blame him, it's better than our hometown by a mile. But, unlike me, he had no trouble finding an apartment postgrad; he had a cushty job lined up for him in marketing which paid the bills nicely. I, on the other had, got a job in a start-up magazine. It was nothing fancy, but I could work my way up, eventually.

Shutting off the water and getting dressed, I stepped back out into the kitchen-living area where my brother was cooking pasta on the hob, I glanced over to the TV that was now playing the news; how long was I in the shower for?

"So that phonecall earlier," Jordan started, making me walk over and sit on one of the bar stools, "Was an old mate of mine, Josh."

"Okay," I reached for the spoon and stirred the pasta water in front of me, "Is that it?"

"No you idiot, let me finish."

I raised my hands up in defence and let him continue. "So, as I was saying. My mate Josh called and he told me that one of his friends is in a bit of a dilemma. One of their roommates has decided to move out before their lease ends,"

My ears perked up at the word 'roommate', "Okay,"

"He heard that you were down here and looking for places to live and wanted to pass on the offer," He explained, shutting off the hob, "It wouldn't be your own place, but it's a start, and will be a lot cheaper than what you've been looking at."

I toyed with the thought in my mind, he's right. I'd be saving a lot of money by sharing, though I did love my own space. But, I guess beggars can't be choosers.

"So, what's the catch? Are the other people a nightmare? Why did the other person move out?" I asked, surely it couldn't be that easy.

"Nah, I don't think so. From what I've seen of these guys they're sound, don't know why the other ones moving out - maybe he got a bird or something."

"Wait, guys? Like, men?"

"No Elle, guys as in pet hamsters," He rolled his eyes. "Of course I mean men."

"Alright, alright enough with the sarcasm," I retorted, "Can I get this guy's number then?"

Emphasis on the 'guy'.

He nodded and texted it me over.

I twiddled my thumbs over the screen, debating whether or not I should do this. Oh what the heck, can't be that bad, right?

Hey, I'm Elle. My brother Jordan heard from his friend Josh that you needed a roommate?

I chewed on my bottom lip as I watched the iMessage go from delivered to read.

Hey, yeah that's right. I'm Callum, would you be down to come and see the place tomorrow? Might be easier to talk details in person.

Sure, I can come by whenever. Just a quick one though, how many of you are there in the flat already?

Just two now that Cal has moved out. 2pm good for you?

Two Callums? Or Cals? Because that's not confusing.

2pm works, text me the address. See you then.

Time to see if the universe nices me.