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.
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.