Bernard POV
I woke up to the sound of our upstairs neighbors fighting again. Their voices were loud and angry, just like every morning for the past three weeks. I rolled over and looked at the cracked ceiling of our tiny one-bedroom apartment, feeling the familiar anger building in my chest.
This place was a dump. The carpet was old and stained, the kitchen was smaller than my old walk-in closet, and the bathroom had a leak that the landlord refused to fix. Tracy and I were sharing this miserable space because it was all we could afford after everything fell apart.
"Bernard," Tracy called from the kitchen, her voice sharp with irritation. "The coffee maker is broken again, and we don't have money to buy a new one."
I groaned and sat up on the lumpy couch where I had been sleeping. We c
