One Floor Between Us (Charlie Barber x Reader)

Chapter 1: Brand New

October had a way of making New York City feel like it belonged in a movie. The autumn air carried the scent of maple popcorn from a small fall festival down the street, and the sounds of leaves crunching as people walked by caused you to look out the window of your new apartment to take it all in.

Pumpkins sat on your new neighbors' front steps, fake cobwebs were strung on the bushes in between the brownstones, and you had a comforting sense of nostalia viewing the Halloween LED lights and 1990's style window clings in some of the windows. Halloween was right around the corner, but to you, it felt like the first day of an entirely different life.

You turned around and stood in the middle of your tiny one bedroom apartment, surrounded by half-unpacked boxes and the sound of furniture being brought in by the moving men you hired. You were grateful to have your mom and stepfather helping you set up your space when making this leap to a place unknown to you. For the first time in 29 years, you had a home to call yours, all to yourself.

At times you felt like a late bloomer, and your new apartment was far from glamorous, but you did this on your own. You had lived in a dorm room with roommates all throughout your college years, then rented a house with friends for a few years before moving in with your most recent ex-boyfriend. After finding out he had been cheating on you, you decided to move back in with your mom while healing from the breakup. You swore off relationships after you realized how much you had been manipulated by him, and how deeply the end of the relationship had affected you.

For the last two years, you began pouring into your own cup and your career. Your best friend from college, Melanie, had actually gotten you a job at your current company in New York City with her. You had been working fully remote, but when the company had announced that they'd be rolling back on that and introducing a hybrid schedule starting in the New Year, the idea of commuting from your moms house in New Jersey three times a week by train wasn't appealing. So, you decided that it was time to get an apartment of your own; close enough to your office to make the commute better, but far enough from your family home to really feel independent.

"The movers will be inside in a few minutes to put your mattress on the frame and then they're done. As for boxes, that's the last one." The familiar voice of your stepfather, Wayne, echoed from the entryway before he appeared in the doorway with a medium sized cardboard box balanced against him. You glanced around the apartment. "Really?"

He set the box beside the couch with an exaggerated groan and straightened, with a hand against his lower back. "Really. Unless you secretly hired another moving truck. But that's everything." You walked over and gave him a quick side hug, thanking him for his assistance. "And thank YOU, Mom. For everything." you called out to your mom, Denise, who was in the kitchen area, taking mismatched mugs out of a box and placing them in a random kitchen cabinet.

"It's our pleasure, babe." she responded, without turning around to look at you. You walked over to her as she turned to grab another mug from the box. "You don't have to unpack for me, you know I'm just going to rearrange everything a million times before it feels perfect." Even though you appreciated that your mom and stepfather took the drive into New York City from New Jersey to help with your move, you were looking forward to making the apartment exactly how you wanted it to be, without your mom giving her input every two seconds about what she would do if she were you, even though you knew she always meant well.

"I know." she replied, lightly touching your hand. "But I need to feel useful for another five minutes before I start crying." You smiled despite the lump forming in your throat.

By living with your mom and stepfather when transitioning from your previous relationship, the three of you had become closer than ever. Your mom and your biological father had divorced when you were in your early teenage years, and after the divorce, your father rarely saw or spoke to you and your younger sister, Noelle, unless he had to. He only took you one weekend per month and waived his right to see you for any holidays. Once you turned 18, he filed for emancipation and did the same with Noelle. Your mother poured herself into being there for you two to make up for his absence.