"Dave. Dave. Wake up.", you shake him.
He flips you off and turns over.
"Too bad that hot girl from last night wanted to say goodbye.", you whisper before leaving.
Seconds later, a blur passes by you.
"Where?", he asks.
"Nowhere. Now, help me clean up."
Josh:
"Shit!", you yell as you open the letter in your mailbox.
"What?", Josh says, walking towards you.
"Rent's due tomorrow. We don't get paid until next Monday!", you hand him the letter, shaking from your nerves.
"It's fine. I have some left from last paycheck. I also have some money my grandparents sent me for doing their yard work a couple weeks ago.", he says, looking through the stack of papers on his desk.
"My parents sent me a care package the other day. It had some money in it, I'm pretty sure. I have part of my paycheck left too.", you assure him, digging through the box by the kitchen.
You pulled out the bills, and you checked your envelope with the money in it.
"Are we close?", you ask him.
"Thirty dollars short.", he sighs.
"Up go the couch cushions.", you joke.
You both dig through pockets of jackets, pants, through bags, wallets, and yes, even the couch cushions.
"We did it!", you squeal, giving him a happy hug.
"Hope the landlord doesn't care about the change.", he laughs.
Wes:
"Oh my god, Wes. Pick up your damn clothes before I actually fight you.", you sigh as you throw his clothes into a hamper in the corner.
He groans, rolling over.
You open his curtains.
"We have to clean this place. It's ridiculous.", you remind him, pushing him out of his bed.
He lands on the floor with a thud, but he doesn't move.
"Wes. Get up.", you kick him gently, starting to pick up the clothes.
"You be a neat freak. I'll be messy.", he groans, slowly standing up.
"No. You have to be cleaner.", you try to convince him.
He throws a shirt in the pile you are making, and he makes a face at you.
"Better.", you giggle.
"If we're cleaning, can I at least pick the music?", Wes asks after a moment.
You nod with a smile as he triumphantly scrolls through his phone.
Noah:
An alarm clock sounds.
You groan as you look at your clock. 4:30 am.
"Noah! Shut it off!", you yell, putting a pillow over your head.
The alarm goes silent.
He always leaves super early at random times to catch various flights or meet people at various locations.
You heard his shower running.
As you almost were asleep, your door opened.
"Hey, (Y/N). I'm heading to the airport to head to the office.", Noah says softly.
Pref #3: Roomates
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