RIKI II: Play The Game

Chapter EIGHTEEN

For the rest of June, I was seeing choices. Getting an apartment is hard. Since I didn't have any credit, I needed a guarantor. I didn't want to do that because I don't want anyone part of my business when it's mine and mine alone. I tried to find a loophole, but landlords have too many fucking demands. What makes it even harder is people are snatching apartments quickly now that New York is open. They say it's back, but it never left. Parks, beaches, pools, and restaurants are open. Parties have returned to normal and so have gyms with the mask mandates lifted. Seventy percent of people have taken the vaccine. I haven't and don't plan to. We're healing. We've just haven't cured. Most people have taken their masks off while some are not ready. In hospitals and trains, you still have to wear one. I haven't worn a mask on a train since the pandemic. They've been a few who tried to press me about it, but I gave them all my middle. 2019 was our way towards the endgame. 2020 was exactly just that. 2021 is the healing process.

As far Operation YANKEES goes, I have made progress seeing a real estate agency named Bond New York. Ellie, my agent, has been helping me which I know hasn't been easy for her since I've been looking at so many options. I went inside Elle's air freshened cubicle and told her my situation. I had to give her ID, proof of employment, and bank statement. After considering it over skateboarding on Dust, I went with a third-party guarantor named Rhino as Elle suggested. Rhino...my bike.

Me and Elle went all over streets between seventies and eighties looking at studios and one-bedroom apartments. I needed a studio, but I really wanted a one bedroom for the space. I don't think a studio would be enough for all the shit I got.

There was a one bedroom that was rent stabilized for $1600 something. It didn't work out since I didn't have a guarantor at the time and the landlord was strict as fuck. Elle showed me studios that had a pink bathroom. It was the same shade Kennedy's wife wore when he was assassinated. And that kinda creeped me so I said no thanks. Then there was another spot on first avenue and 90th Street that had a closet reminding me of the scene in Halloween when Laurie was hiding from Michael. For two of them in one studio I don't know if it would fit my coats.

We later visited a studio on 83rd Street that had enough space and a backyard on the first floor. Not bad, but someone could hop the fence and insects might be crawling under the door from the yard. I don't know. It's easy to say your destination is home. After all, there is no place to go but there. The hard part is finding a home when you don't know where it is.

When I looked at the insides of those studios, walking up and down those stairs, opening the doors, looking around the kitchens, bathrooms, living rooms, and bedrooms I felt like I was staring into my future. One of these places would soon be my home. It made me smile as I envisioned what it would all be like.

It's now July and I'm at Rockaway on the hottest day of ninety-three degrees. Fuck what the media says about heat advisory. I love summer. Yesterday, I filled in an application for a studio at 335 92nd street 4E. If that goes south, I have a backup for a spot on 73rd Street which has a bike rack and laundromat. The last application I put in I had to kiss goodbye because someone got accepted for it. It confused me because there was no application pending in the database and I already paid Rhino a $193 deposit. What a bummer. It was on the first floor; first floor was a perk.

I paid Rhino an extra $372 for 92nd Street. Elle said I shouldn't have to pay extra if I missed out on an apartment. That three hundred came out of my account and I had to put it up to get rid of the overdraft. It better not happen again. I won't let it. Second time is the last time of things for me.

The converge for the rent went from $1600 to $1800 which is beyond my budget. I can do $1600 to $1700. If I get this place, I'm gonna have to be paying nearly $2000 in rent. It had me on edge, but I told myself to be calm. I will make it work. I can't back out now. Not after all I've done to get this far. Not after everything I've been through. Remember 2019, Riki.

I don't need to ask myself how I feel right now. I'm on cold feet and haven't gotten the apartment yet. The question is: How can I keep up with an amount of $1800 in rent and still keep my throne. I have to make sure everything will be okay because that's my worry. If everything will be okay. I still have my throne at eighteen thousand. I just gotta hold it down until the application process is over then I can decide what to do and how I'm gonna do it. I need to relax, assort myself then all my worries will disappear.

July 20th, 2021 I almost forgot Chill' birthday is on the 28th. I'll get him a hoodie if I find the right one. If not, I'll find something else.

Yesterday, in the middle of my ab workout, I got a text from Elle that I've been approved for the apartment. Congratulations, right? I should be excited about it. Truth is when I found out, I got scared. I've taken quite many moves in my life. I left 1428, got medical insurance, a bank account, a job, lost my v-card, and partied like a superstar. But this one is a big move.

I know I can't stay at Brasilia's house nor move back in with Lisa. I have to understand that I must come into my own. I lived off woman long enough and will not be like my bitch ass father. I know the amount of rent I'll be paying. I can clean, and I can iron. Just laundry and cooking I have to work on.

If I decide to go along with the apartment, I'll need to decide what to do with The Order. I've been growing to wisdom and when it comes to decision making, it has to be the wisest. There are two choices: Dispose the order or keep it.

If I say fuck The Order, it would be out of my vengeance because that's what I want to do to both Lisa and Ava. I want to hurt them. However, by keeping the Order I could use my enemies to my advantage until they are no longer of use to me. I could visit Brasilia once a month with the same of my half for her rent. I could keep visiting at 1428 every weekend. In short, I could still play the game until it's time to say checkmate. Number two would be wise. I just gotta figure out to balance that and running my own place. It's either my dysfunctional family or myself alone.

When I came back to Franklin Plaza, I sat Brasilia down at the living room table. She got the vaccine. The fool listened to the tube about COVID possibly coming back and for citizens having to wear masks again. The way humans handle problems is madness. 

I told her sitting at the table with her, "I'm moving. And I wont be here anymore. If you need help, you can get Gus, Cass, and Lisa. I won't be able to run any errands of help you out with rent."

She was worried. "Why? What made you make this decision?" Because of what you did to me in 2019. You cruel bitch.

"I want to do something new. I have all this money and make good use of it. I think my own place is the right move to do so."

She said, "I feel like you're not being leveled with me. What's the real reason why you're leaving?"

"I told you. I want to try something new."

"No, I understand that, but I think something is not right. There's more than what you're not telling me." Tears started to well in Brasilia's eyes. That feeling...it's called hurt. And I'm enjoying seeing her this way because she now know how I felt.

"There is nothing else to it." I said flatly.

"Where's the apartment?"

"It's in Jersey City." I show her pictures of the apartment and amount of rent I have to pay.

"It looks nice. Well, if anything doesn't work out with your house, you'll always have a place here." I'll keep that in mind.

I could have stuck with the military lie, but it would have been pointless since I would still be moving out. All I know is I want to punish this woman by leaving her alone with nobody to help her.

July 21st, 2021. I signed the documents needed for my studio. All I need to do is pay the prorated rent of $2,281.59. Must everything be so accurate with the cents? When I cash this money in, I can move in. Before I do that, I need to get back to work in August. And there's a slight problem with that.

Astor Place has a new manager in his forties with a husky figure, grey hair, and glasses. His name is Churchill. I didn't like him at first sight. He reminded of those white motherfuckers I delt with in my freshman year at St. Agnes Boys High School. A horror show that was. According to Miles, Churchill is a mixture of Martha and Andy. I told him about myself and requested my return. He told me the gym was full staffed and he would call to let me know. I need to get back to work. I should try Martha at Avenue A and see about any openings.