Alfred slammed through the thin wooden door to his apartment. The rent was rather high for such a small place, but that's New York for you. And after seeing Arthur's apartment, it only further accentuated his point that you could have wealth living right next door to poverty.

Not that he was living in poverty, exactly. He could afford to eat and buy a few luxuries, but he did have to get two jobs to make it happen. Alfred plopped down on his couch and clicked his tongue for Hero to come over. Hero quickly popped around the corner and hopped onto his lap, nipping at his jacket. The cat's eyes lit up when he pulled a bag of McDonalds out from under the leather.

"Sorry, bud. This is for me," He laughed. At that moment, he was sure that Hero had never looked so upset in his life. "Oh, come on! Don't look at me like that!"

For some reason, the furball was more dog than cat, as he somehow found a way to make puppy-dog eyes. Even as a cat.

Alfred sighed. "I have your food, too, you know. Just give me a sec and I'll get it out."

Hero purred and rubbed his fluffy head against his hand, encouraging him for a pet. Gladly, his owner complied and began stroking his fur, scratching behind his ears.

Absent-mindedly, Alfred began looking around his new home. Most of the place was a studio, but there was also a tiny bathroom with a shower and toilet. It also had a sink, but it seems that the previous occupants had been so inconsiderate, they hadn't even wiped it. As a result, soap scum and toothpaste gunk was slathered all over it. The place had a tiny sleeping alcove in the corner, but it was mostly unused. The rent was so high; he hadn't had enough money left over to afford a bed. Thank god for pull out couches. At least the kitchen was nice. With granite countertops and a nice stove, it was probably the nicest area in the entire apartment. His television and various gaming systems were still sitting along the wall, though. No way was he going to give those up.

It was also expensive. About $2700 dollars a month, in fact. The sad thing was that it was the cheapest he could find. Another thing to be expected in New York . Thus, two jobs. The Times paid pretty well, but not nearly enough for rent. Though, The Roost was a good place. The people were nice, and they tipped pretty well from what he'd seen.

Alfred stood up and poured dry protein flakes into a bowl for Hero before settling into the couch and devouring his hamburger. Oh yeah. This was definitely worth the extra few blocks walk.

xxx

Early the next morning, Arthur was already up and scurrying about, trying to get his apartment ready for his publisher. The Japanese man was very kind, but firm when it came to book sales and overall business. The sun hadn't even risen over the skyline yet, but that was another thing about Mr. Honda- he insisted on meeting early in the morning, for fear of Arthur's pseudonym being revealed. He was a well-known publisher, after all.

Arthur grimaced as his duster picked up a thick layer of dust on the top of the book shelf. How had he allowed his home to become so dirty? It was revolting, and honestly, he was a bit ashamed of it. In the back on his mind, he could practically hear his neighbor saying something annoying and idiotic, 'I don't think he's gonna look up there, dude! Chill!'

Alfred was rather annoying, in his opinion. When he had moved here, his neighbors were something he had never even batted at eye at. They were just those people who happened to live in his building. Maybe it was due to the American living in a rural town as a boy? He seemed to recall him mentioning something like that, but no matter. The clock was ticking.

The kettle whistled in the background, successfully interrupting his thoughts and bringing him back to reality. Arthur briskly walked over and poured the water into a steeper, while grabbing a cloth and wiping down the oven. Which was also quite filthy, caked in burnt guck from last night's culinary adventure. It was worth it, though. The peas were delicious.

Hurry, hurry. No time to waste. Mr. Honda would be here any minute, and he hadn't even set out the scones yet. He grabbed a plate from the cupboard and set it out, dumping some of the cold scones he had made last night onto the plate. It was just as he had done this, a soft rapping came from the door.

"Hell..." Arthur muttered to himself as he patted his messy hair down in the mirror and straightened his tie. This was going to be a good meeting. A great meeting. He carefully opened the door and put on the nicest smile he could give.

"Mr. Honda. Hello." Arthur smiled, shaking the man's hand.

"Hello, Kirkland-san. It's nice to see you again," He said politely, articulating each word. "May I come in?"

The two stepped into the apartment, and Arthur took his coat, hanging it up on the rack next to them. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the esteemed publisher poking and prodding at his scones. Probably contemplating how many he should eat.

"Allow me to cut to the chase," Mr. Honda said gravely. "Your draft for the next book isn't enjoyable."

Arthur's face rapidly drained of colour, then immediately went scarlet. His draft? Not enjoyable? That's... a lie, it has to be. He had worked on that for months now! Even while the third book was in publishing, he was working on it. It was well-written, too.

"That... why, may I ask?" He asked dryly.

Mr. Honda looked uneasily down at the scones, then back up at him. "Katia and James are supposed to be together. As are Alessa and Joshua. I am not sure why you insist upon breaking them up."

The Englishman felt his mouth dry as he pressed his lips together and stuttered out, "Well... that's... I haven't been feeling much romance between them as of recently."

The other shook his head. "It does not matter. You need to find some, or the last book will not sell."

"What if I killed off two of them? It could be an interesting plot twist, and I'm sure it will leave the readers in tears." He said quickly.

"Kirkland-san. What is your series about?" Mr. Honda asked with a somewhat passive-agressive tone that reminded Arthur vaguely of a serial killer.

"Lost love and romance."

"Correct," The man nodded. "Do you think it would be wise to stop writing romance?"

"No... but-"

"I will not take no for an answer."

Arthur sighed and twiddled his thumbs before taking a sip of his tea. "Yes. I understand."

Mr. Honda nodded and stood up, grabbing his coat from the rack. "Thank you, Kirkland-san. Now, I must be going. I have some business to attend to in Queens."

Without saying another word, Mr. Honda walked directly out, ignoring his offer to put some scones in a take-home bag for him. Which left Arthur sitting alone at his table in disdain.

How could he possibly write about something that had left him months ago?

xxx

The next few hours had left Arthur in a daze. At one point, he had gotten his laptop and attempted to write, but it didn't go so well. The only thing he'd accomplished today was plowing through a novel in a pathetic attempt to get his mind off of things. This didn't work, and in the end, it only left him more upset.

Crumpets seemed to notice this, and made an effort to be somewhat affectionate. But with Crumpets, 'somewhat affectionate' meant sitting next to you on the couch as you watched telly. Actually, that was about as good as you'd get. Ever.

Through his temporary writer's depression, he had somehow let the time slip to six without realizing it. Though he remembered instantly when a pounding came from his front door, accompanied by an obnoxiously loud voice.

"Artie! Open up, man! Hero's here, and he wants to say hi to your boring cat!"

Now, if he didn't recognize that voice, Mother Nature hereby had permission to strike him down with lightning where he stood.

Rather reluctantly, he opened the door with a forced smile. "Alfred. It's nice to see you."

The American laughed and stepped in. "It's weird when you're nice. A little creepy, too. It's also weird when you fake smiles. Kind of makes you look like an eyebrow-demon." Alfred said nonchalantly as he looked around.

And there it went.

"Leave. Out. Now." Arthur grumbled, pushing him back towards the door. Alfred grimaced and put Hero on the ground before grinning again.

"Nope, not leaving," He said, flopping down on the couch and closing his eyes.

The two began to argue, as across the room, the two felines began to share a spot of sun in the window.

Noticing this, Alfred paused and pointed over at them. "Looks like they're getting cosy over there."

Arthur plopped down next to him with a freshly made mug of tea and sipped it tentatively. "I agree. What exactly is your cat's name, again?"

"Hero!" Alfred grinned. Scoffng, the Englishman turned away.

"That's a horrible name."

"Well, he sure seems to like it," Alfred pouted. "Anyway... uh, how was your day?"

Sinking into the couch, Arthur sighed a bit and swirled the tip of his tea with his fingertip. "Not perfect. My publisher gave me somewhat of a lecture on my latest draft."

"Ah," He noted. "Sorry to hear that, man. What series do you write, again?"

"None of your business. Am I right to assume that your day was fine?"

"Yup! I got my first assignment. Basically, I have to go and take pictures of all these places around the city." Alfred beamed.

"Oh, really? Where are these places?" Arthur asked.

With a shrug, Alfred replied, "Just cool little places around the city. Dylan's Candy Bar, S'mac, The 21 Club... it's pretty cool."

"The 21 Club is a rather odd addition to such a cheery list," Arthur noted as he sipped his tea.

"Yeah," He admitted. "But still cool. Hey, you should come with me! I mean, it'll get your mind off the whole publishing thing."

There was a moment of silence as Arthur pondered this. On one hand, they had just met yesterday. But on the other hand...

"That sounds lovely."

Alfred nodded and put out his hand for a fist pound. "Coolio. I have my first day at The Roost tomorrow, though. So yeah... we'll go next Saturday or something."

Mentally thinking through his schedule, Arthur nodded. "Alright. It'd be nice to get to know each other better, seeing as I assume we'll be around each other often."

"Yep!" Alfred grinned, "You know, you're not half-bad."

"You annoy me."

The other made a pained look and grabbed at his arm. "Ouch. Give me some ice for that burn, Artie."

"Oh, shut your mouth," Arthur said, looking off in the opposite direction. At least it would take his mind off of his draft.

Oh god. Still no computer. Though, this isn't an excuse, so I'm going to make a commitment to this, and update AT LEAST once a week. I really do love this story, you know. Anyway, I'm so happy to see that so many of you are enjoying this! It makes me so happy when I see a review, I just want to explode. But, ah... yes. Thank you for your kind words. Next chapter? It'll be up soon.

-chibitalex