I couldn't believe what I'd heard. "Two months?! Your brother will be here for two months?!"
My girlfriend and I had just bought an apartment together in Manhattan and we finally had a place to ourselves. For years, we'd lived with roommates in the close confines of New York City. Now that we finally had a studio apartment to ourselves, Stacy had invited her little punk brother to come stay with us.
"Please," she begged me. "He can't afford to do an internship without us."
I was no fan of Stacy's little brother but didn't feel like I could say no either. At 19 years old, he had just finished his first year of college and landed his first internship in NYC. With no money for rent, the only way he could swing it was to crash with us in our 600-square-foot apartment in the Upper East Side.
"Fine," I agreed, unwillingly. "I just hope he's not at home a lot. I don't want him in our space."
Two months later, Ayden arrived in the Big Apple. At 5'10", he was a little shorter than me and skinny too. He looked like a twig next to my more toned and muscular body and clearly didn't work out much. But with blond hair and blue eyes, he had a boyish look about him that seemed to work well with the ladies. Perhaps he was just engaging in typical male banter, but he always boasted about getting "tons of sex" at college.
Apart from Stacy, who I'd now been dating for six years, I wasn't much of a player in my youth. I only had sex with two girls before I met Stacy, and I've been faithful to her ever since.
When Ayden arrived at our apartment, he seemed a little shocked by how small it was. A typical studio apartment, we had a queen-sized bed, a TV, a couch, an arm-chair, and a small kitchenette with stove, a fridge, and a tiny table just big enough for two or three people. Ayden would have to sleep on the couch, and Stacy and I would be on the bed just a few feet away.
I told Stacy that this was far too close of quarters, but she assured me it would work. "He's my brother," she assured me. "Everything will be just fine."
Apart from his clothes in a small suitcase, the one thing that Ayden brought to the apartment was an Xbox One. To me, this seemed like a red flag. "Who brings an Xbox to New York?" I asked Stacy. "Doesn't he want to go outside and explore the City?"
Stacy assured me that this would only be for two months and that Ayden needed his Xbox. "He's socially awkward," she said. "It helps him relax."
With my veto clearly overridden, Ayden moved into our apartment with his Xbox. Stacy was right that everything seemed fine at first. Ayden started his internship and was busy at work, and Stacy and I were both occupied with our jobs as well. Ayden also spent time exploring the city—going on runs in Central Park, visiting museums with student discounts, and talking to girls he met on Tinder.
But bit by bit, I noticed a worrying trend. Ayden began spending more time playing Xbox at home. This wasn't a big deal since Stacy and I were rarely home, but it started to creep into our alone time together on nights and weekends. As Stacy and I sat in bed and talked or read, Ayden would be on the couch, playing Halo on the Xbox. On weekend mornings, we'd wake up and he'd already be up playing Fortnite. Ayden was nice enough to keep the volume down, but it was just kind of annoying that my boyfriend's little brother was constantly playing Xbox in our tiny apartment.
Things stayed under control until Stacy left town for work. She had a one-week work trip to Toronto and asked me and Ayden to hold down the fort.
Although I was used to Stacy leaving town, I wasn't used to sharing my space with her teenage brother. At 27 years old, I was eight years older than Ayden and not super jazzed about hanging out with him. He wasn't even old enough to go to bars, so the main thing he did was play Xbox.
Stacy left on a Thursday night and the first day went swimmingly. I ordered takeout for me and Ayden and we watched one of the old Predator movies on Netflix. At one point during the movie, Ayden took his shirt off. "It's hot in here," he said. I didn't think anything of it because he was right. It was really hot and our air conditioning has always been lousy in this older apartment.
After the movie, I went out to meet some friends for drinks. Predictably, Ayden stayed in to play Xbox. By the time I got back at 2 am, he was passed out on the couch. Although Ayden normally wore basketball shorts and a t-shirt while Stacy was here, he had now stripped down to a pair of boxers. I didn't think anything of it and did the same thing myself. It was hot in here, after all, and we were also just two dudes sleeping on different surfaces. I laid down on the bed and was out like a light.
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When I came to around 11 am, Ayden was already up playing Xbox. "Good morning, sleepyhead," he said.
I went to the bathroom and started getting ready for the day. "Have you made any coffee yet?" I asked Ayden. "Nope," he replied.
It bugged me a little bit that Ayden never did anything around the apartment. Stacy and I paid for all of his groceries, cooked him meals, and cleaned up after him. All he did was play Xbox, and he couldn't even make his own coffee in the morning?
I didn't verbalize any of these concerns, but instead made plenty of coffee for both me and Ayden. I then went down to a bagel shop to get some breakfast. As I brought him a bagel sandwich with egg and cheddar, he barely looked up to thank me. "Sweet, man!" is all he said.
I was a little annoyed that Ayden was still in his boxers playing Xbox and seemingly making no effort to leave the apartment. After being cooped up with him and Stacy, I sort of wanted space to myself, so I decided to go to a museum. "See you later," I said, walking out the door.
I spent eight full hours outside the apartment—walking around the City, going to the Met, and taking the train to a farmer's market on the lower east side. It was a fun and rejuvenating day, but I got back to the apartment pretty beat and ready to relax.
As I stepped back into my studio, I was surprised to see Ayden right where I left him—in the same pair of boxers, still sitting on the couch.
"Have you eaten anything?" I asked.
"Just some stuff I found in the fridge," he replied.
"Umm, those were my leftovers from yesterday that I was going to eat for dinner," I told him.
"Oh, okay."
As Ayden sat on the couch playing Halo, I whipped up some mac and cheese, which wasn't nearly as delicious as the fillet mignon I'd been saving from lunch the day before. As I ate the mediocre macaroni and stared at Ayden, my anger towards him began to grow.
Here was this kid who had invaded our apartment and somehow thought it was okay to eat my leftovers and sit around all day playing Halo. Moreover, he was wearing the same dirty boxers that he had on last night and I could almost smell his BO from here. The only thing he had going for him is that he was such a cute and skinny kid that I couldn't ever fathom lifting a finger against. But he sure could use a lesson and get put in his place. He needed to learn some discipline and start treating people with more respect.
"Do you want to play?" Ayden asked me.
I looked at the screen and saw he was playing Halo 5. I'd played previous versions back in college and had been pretty good at it. I'd always won Halo tournaments in my college dorm and beat most people I played online.
"Sure," I said, grabbing the extra controller. For the moment, I briefly forgot how mad I was that Ayden had been sitting and gaming all day.
"Have you played before?" He asked.
"Of course," I replied. "I used to win tournaments in my college dorm."
