Chapter 2Paid, Evicted, Stripped Bare

The next day was Monday. The morning subway was packed like a can of sardines.

As I was jostled by the crowd, my phone vibrated in my pocket.

It was Mr. Finch.

I swiped the screen, and a text message appeared.

“Brian, just a heads-up. My son’s getting married in a couple of months and needs the apartment. You should pack up and be out within 7 days.”

I stood in the swaying car, surrounded by a cacophony of voices, but I couldn’t hear a thing. My mind went blank, a dull ringing in my ears.

Out in 7 days?

I stared at the words, reading them three times. I knew what each word meant, but together, they were incomprehensible.

I had just paid him eight hundred dollars for heating.

Yesterday, he was calling me a “model tenant.”

Today, he was kicking me to the curb.

A hot rush of blood surged to my head, and my fingers trembled with rage.

I called him back. It rang a few times, then he declined the call.

A second message followed: “In a meeting. Text me.”

Suppressing my fury, I typed, word by word.

“Mr. Finch, our lease isn’t up for another six months. And I just paid the eight-hundred-dollar heating fee last week.”

After I sent it, the status changed to “typing…”

A few seconds later, a thirty-second voice message appeared.

I turned the volume down to the minimum and held the phone to my ear. Mr. Finch’s slick, contemptuous voice drilled into my brain.

“Oh, come on, Brian. You can’t be so rigid. Contracts are just paper; people have to be flexible. My son’s wedding is a big deal. You can be a little understanding, can’t you?”

“As for that eight hundred bucks… you’ve lived here for three years, and I never once raised your rent. A lot of things are worn out. Just consider it payment for three years of depreciation and cleaning fees. I’m not taking advantage of you.”

“If you don’t like it, go ahead and sue me. Start the legal process. But let me tell you, a guy like you, just here to work, can you really afford the time? Can you afford the lawyer’s fees? You’ll end up with no place to live and probably lose your job in the process.”

The message ended with a short, sharp, mocking laugh.

I stood frozen, feeling as if every eye in the subway car was on me. His voice was like a poison-tipped needle, jabbing at my nerves.

Rage. Humiliation. And the sickening feeling of being played for a fool.

Every muscle in my body tensed. I wanted to storm over to his place and smash the phone into his smug, fleshy face.

The train arrived at my stop. The doors opened, and the crowd surged forward. I was pushed out onto the platform, and the cold air that filled my lungs cleared my head slightly.

I didn’t send another message.

I just calmly, expressionlessly, took screenshots of the entire chat history, including that grating voice message and yesterday’s payment record. One by one.

After I was done, I opened my phone’s voice recorder.

Then, I dialed Mr. Finch’s number again.

This time he answered, his tone impatient. “Didn’t I say I was in a meeting? What is it?”

I spoke with a calmness that felt foreign even to me. “Mr. Finch, I just want to confirm. You’re saying you won’t honor the lease, you won’t refund the heating fee, and I must be out in seven days. Is that correct?”

There was a two-second pause on the other end, followed by undisguised arrogance. “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean. Be smart about this. It’s better for everyone.”

“Okay.”

I said the word and hung up.

No arguments, no questions, not even a hint of emotion.

Mr. Finch was probably stunned. He might have expected anger, begging, maybe even threats. He never would have anticipated such a clean, simple “Okay.”

He didn’t text again.

In his mind, he had likely just won another easy victory in the adult world. He was probably gloating over his own cleverness.

I walked out of the subway station into the blinding sun.

I looked up at the gray sky and took a deep, long breath.

Then, I exhaled all the foul air from my chest.

And with it, the last shred of my naive belief in decency and fairness.

If playing by the rules couldn’t earn me respect, then I would play by his. And I would teach him a lesson he would never forget.