Unusual Roommates

Chapter 1

The cold Chicago air stung Chase Keaton’s cheeks as he stepped out of the gym, sweat cooling on his lean frame despite his hoodie. The workout had been his one constant since arriving in the city—a brief reprieve from the chaos of trying to rebuild his life on a teacher’s salary.

He walked briskly to the motel a few blocks away, dodging puddles from the melting snow. His stomach growled as he climbed the stairs to his room. The door creaked open to reveal the dingy space he’d called home for the past two weeks: a sagging twin bed, faded floral wallpaper, and the faint smell of mildew. He tossed his gym bag onto the chair by the desk and opened the mini-fridge, pulling out a plastic tray of microwavable pasta.

He stared at it, his jaw tightening. “Another gourmet meal,” he muttered, shoving the tray into the microwave.

Chase had always taken pride in taking care of himself. Back home, he’d meal-prepped every Sunday, carefully balancing protein, carbs, and greens. Now, stuck in this overpriced motel, all he could manage were freezer meals from the gas station around the corner. The contrast wasn’t just frustrating—it was infuriating.

He sat on the edge of the bed, fork in hand, and opened his laptop. The screen glowed with listings he’d been cycling through for days, each more disheartening than the last.

The first had been in a neighborhood he later learned was infamous for gang activity. The landlord had insisted it was “on the up-and-up,” but the boarded-up windows of the surrounding buildings told a different story. The rent? $1,200 a month for a shoebox-sized room with a shared bathroom.

Another apartment had seemed promising on paper: a decent area, affordable rent, and only one roommate. But when Chase arrived, he found the roommate was an older man who chain-smoked inside and had a collection of taxidermy animals lining the living room. The smell of nicotine and formaldehyde had chased him out before he could even ask about utilities.

Then there was the place near his school, which had seemed too good to be true. It was. The “apartment” turned out to be the basement of an old townhouse with ceilings so low Chase could barely stand upright.

Chase closed the laptop with a groan, running a hand through his damp hair. At this rate, he’d be stuck in the motel forever, burning through his savings one microwaved meal at a time.

He stared at the cracked ceiling for a long moment before pulling out his phone. Scrolling through his feed, he stumbled upon a post in a Facebook group he’d joined out of desperation: “Roommate wanted. Rent: $450/month. Message for details.”

It felt like a scam. Or a typo. But the apartment’s location caught his eye—just a few train stops from the school.

Chase hesitated for only a second before typing out a quick message. Hi, is this still available?

The reply came almost immediately: Yep. Come check it out tomorrow. Here’s the address.

The cold air bit harder the next morning as Chase made his way to the address. The neighborhood was… surprisingly nice. Tree-lined streets with brownstones and a scattering of independent coffee shops. He clutched his coffee cup like a talisman as he approached the building, trying to suppress his skepticism.

The building itself was older and a little rough around the edges—chipped paint and overgrown hedges—but Chase reminded himself of the rent. He climbed the creaky stairs to the third floor and knocked on the door.

A faint thud from inside was followed by a muffled, “Coming!”

When the door opened, Chase was hit by the scent of takeout and the faint hum of video game music. Standing before him was Fred Douglas. He was massive in every sense—broad-shouldered, round-bellied, and wearing a faded T-shirt with some anime character Chase couldn’t recognize. His messy hair and glasses perched slightly crooked on his nose completed the picture.

“Hey! You must be Chase,” Fred said, grinning as he held out a hand. His grip was firm, his smile easy.

Chase glanced past him into the apartment, trying to suppress his initial reaction. The space was huge—high ceilings, large windows, and a living room big enough to fit three of his motel rooms. But it was cluttered with empty soda cans, pizza boxes, and random wires trailing from gaming consoles to a massive TV.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Chase said, stepping inside. His sneakers stuck slightly to the hardwood floor, but he forced a smile.

Fred gestured to the couch, clearing a stack of laundry to make room. “Sorry about the mess. Wasn’t expecting company, y’know?”

Chase glanced around. The apartment had potential. Beneath the chaos, the wood floors were solid, and the walls were painted a warm beige that might’ve been inviting if not for the grease stains on one corner.

“So,” Fred said, plopping down on an oversized beanbag chair, “you’re a teacher, right? What grade?”

“High school,” Chase replied, lowering himself onto the couch cautiously. “Math. I just started at Westfield Academy.”

“Cool, cool,” Fred said, nodding. “I work from home. Programming. So, uh, sorry in advance if you hear me cursing at my monitor. It’s, like, 90% of my job.”

Chase laughed despite himself. Fred’s easygoing nature was disarming, and while the mess was daunting, there was something endearing about the guy.

Fred leaned forward. “Look, I know it’s not… perfect here. I’m not gonna win any awards for cleanliness, but I’m chill, and the rent’s cheap because, well, I don’t care about much except paying the bills. You’d have your own room, and I stay out of people’s way. So, what do you think?”

Chase hesitated. The rent was absurdly low, and the location was unbeatable. He could almost see his savings stabilizing with the extra breathing room this place would give him.

“Alright,” Chase said, holding out his hand. “You’ve got a deal.”

Fred grinned, his hand enveloping Chase’s in a firm shake. “Welcome home, dude.”

As Chase stepped into his new room—bare but mercifully clean—he exhaled deeply. This wasn’t what he’d imagined when he moved to Chicago, but it was a start.

And, as he unpacked his bag, he couldn’t help but smile. It might even be the start of something interesting.