Luckily for Frankie, I’m not confrontational. I can’t say the same for Scarlett, but that’s a lesson he’ll learn once she arrives. On the bright side, it’s only my first night in New York and an iconic feud with my landlord is already beginning. This is a yearlong lease, and I’m sure by the end of it I’ll have so many stories to share with all my new friends about this time in my life.

There’s a knock on the door, and a young boy walks in. I’m bad at guessing ages. Is he five but really tall for his age or ten but really short? There’s something familiar about him, but I honestly can’t place why.

He’s wearing pajamas and waves. “Are you our new neighbor?” he asks with a smile.

“I am. My name is Valentino.”

“I’m Paz.”

“Cool name, Paz.”

“It’s short for Pazito, but only my mom calls me that. I like your name too.”

This is the most welcomed I’ve felt tonight.

Before I can thank him, I notice Frankie glaring at Paz.

“Why are you out of bed?” Frankie asks.

“I’m scared because of Death-Cast.”

Frankie rubs his eyes. “Death-Cast is not real. Go to sleep.”

Paz starts tearing up. “Okay, Daddy.” He drags his feet toward the door, looking over his shoulder as if he’s waiting for his father to change his mind. Nothing. He goes down the hallway without another word.

I really want to stop Paz and comfort him about Death-Cast, but I suspect I shouldn’t try to undermine Frankie in front of him. I’m sure another opportunity will arise.

“Nice kid,” I say.

Frankie doesn’t acknowledge Paz again. He only places two sets of keys on the kitchen counter. “Big key is for your apartment, medium for downstairs, small for mail. I’m directly down the hall, but don’t knock before nine or after five.”

“Understood. Thanks so—”

Frankie leaves, closing the door behind him.

“—much, Frankie,” I say to no one.

The studio doesn’t seem any bigger without Frankie, but it’s not as cold thankfully.

I look at the time—10:31—and want to FaceTime Scarlett. New York is three hours ahead of Arizona, so I call now, hoping to catch her before she leaves to photograph the big Death-Cast party happening in Phoenix. That job is going to pay one month’s rent and leave enough change for train fare and modest lunches. I sit on the counter while I wait for Scarlett to answer, spotting Frankie through the kitchen window. Of course it’s his apartment that I can view. Frankie grabs a beer out of his fridge, and hopefully he’s a sleepy drunk because he’s already pretty insufferable.

The call goes through, and Scarlett’s face cheers me up.