Introduction

Introduction

Seated on my bed, my laptop screen was staring back at me. Job listings filled the webpage, each one worse than the last. I cursed Kimmy, the restaurant owner’s princess daughter, who took my waitressing gig the second I got the boot. I’m pretty sure I was fired just to open up the spot for her. Being a waitress wasn’t my life’s dream, but it paid the bills and was a stopgap until I figured out my life.

So there I was, 25 years old and living the “dream” life in San Diego. Okay, the goal of getting my journalism degree and becoming a world-famous travel writer died a not-so-peaceful death when I dropped out of university. Turns out, the school life wasn’t for me. Looking back at it now, regret overtook me. If I stuck it out, who knows where I’d be? I wouldn’t be unemployed and living with these three, unable to make rent, would I?

Just as I was about to click “next” and subject myself to more useless job postings, a voice tore through my room. “Izzy! Living room, now!” Ugh, Braden, my roommate, and he seemed mad. A knot formed in my stomach; I knew this was coming eventually. Sighing, I dragged myself off my bed. Here we go.

The hallway felt unusually long as I went to the living room. As I stepped inside, my three roommates, Braden, Jason, and Teddy, turned to face me. I slumped onto the couch, knowing what was coming. Braden’s eyes locked onto mine, and it felt like the world had frozen momentarily. He cleared his throat, breaking the silence, his voice deliberate and measured. “Look, Izzy, we get it,” he began, his tone carrying an edge that sent a shiver down my spine. “Times are tough, but you missed rent last month and are jobless. We can’t keep covering for you.”

My irritation simmered beneath the surface as Braden spoke. My roommates were going to kick me out. I had no job and no place to stay. It’s not like I had any other friends I could really bunk with, and my last boyfriend definitely wasn’t going to let me stay with him after our breakup. Would I have to go back to my parent’s home in Georgia? My eyes started to swell up, but I choked back my tears.

“We’ve lived together for what, 8 months now? We’d feel horrible just kicking you out, so ... We’ve thought of a solution.” It was a relief to hear Jason now, after the contempt Braden spoke with. Jason almost seemed to be trying to do me a solid, but what kind of solution?

I reluctantly took the paper from Braden’s outstretched hand. As I looked it over, it gave nothing but more confusion. It was titled “The Chore List.” Really? What was this, some bizarre game to play to stay here? Sections A, B, and C were listed, each with “chores” matched with points next to them. I skimmed through it and then looked at them, baffled.

“What’s this about?” I finally managed to ask.

Braden’s smirk was all too present, “Our proposition,” he stated.

The room seemed to close in around me. I exchanged quick glances with Jason and Teddy; their expressions were uncomfortable and uncertain. The whole situation was surreal. “I don’t understand,” I said, my voice a touch stronger this time, pushing back against the whirlwind of emotions threatening to engulf me.

“Look closer,” Braden’s gaze bore into mine, unyielding, like a challenge being thrown down.

I glanced back at the paper, my eyes skimming over the words. Section A was all about those everyday tasks to keep this place ticking. You know, the usual cleaning, cooking, and all that jazz. As I moved to Section B, things started taking a turn for the weird. Dyeing my hair? Watching training videos? Outfit approval from my roommates? Okay, it’s getting stranger by the second. But then there was Section C. Oh boy, Section C. My cheeks heated up as I read through the tasks designed for a hooker, not a roommate. My jaw hit the floor, and I stared at them, disbelief clear as day on my face.