❝APARTMENT HUNTING❞
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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ chapter forty,
Gilmore Girls — Season Two

February 26th, 2002

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[ LUCY'S POV ]

I STARE AT THE MESS THAT IS THE APARTMENT. Liz had sent over the last of Jess' things, and he finally decided to unpack, meaning that I can't see my bed, my desk, or the floor for that matter. Jess was sat in the heap of clothes and mess, reading a book and listening to rock music, and I can't hear myself think.

I push Jess' clothes off my bed, finding there to be more of his belongings under the pile. "Seriously, how are you living like this?" I mutter under my breath, pushing a few things onto the floor. I don't even flinch when I hear glass smash.

"Quite comfortably."

I spin around and I find my cousin standing behind me. I groan, my head falling into my hands. I've been frustrated all week with tests coming up and Tristan being grounded again, and all I want is time to myself but I can't have that with Jess living here. "Move your stuff off my bed, and off my desk, and out of my face," I demand.

Jess doesn't move, so I move his stuff off my desk so I can retrieve my books. I then barge past Jess and storm off downstairs towards Dad who is sitting in his usual position, watching a two inch TV with crappy connection. He does this every night, and I feel bad for him because he shouldn't have to live like this, not when he's the one who let Jess in.

I fall next to him, and he glances over at me, his arms crossed over his chest as he tries to get comfortable in his seat. "Welcome."

"I won't tell anyone if you smother Jess in his sleep," I say, and Dad chuckles. "Seriously, I'll even help you bury the body."

Dad shakes his head, but he finds it amusing. I throw my books down on the table which elicits a loud thump. "Lorelai thinks we should move," he says, and I lean back in my chair, a sigh leaving my mouth because it seems like the only solution.

"Well, she has a point," I say, shrugging as it's not the worst idea in the world. "There's not enough room up there for three people. There wasn't even enough room for you and I, Dad."

"Lucy, we've been living there since you were born." And for seventeen years, I've never known another home. I love my home.

There's memories scattered all around our tiny, perfect apartment. There's the bathroom doorframe which has scribbles of ink to measure my height throughout the years. There's the broken floorboard from Dad dropping several pieces of furniture when we moved in. There's the hole in the wall from when Dad accidentally elbowed the wall whilst trying to help me into my party dress at seven-years-old. It's now covered by a photo of me and Dad.

There's so many fond memories, and from the look on Dad's face, he's remembering all those heartfelt memories we had upstairs.

It was my grandfather's office, a place where nobody should live but Dad turned the office into the perfect home. Dad built my cot, turned it into a toddler bed before building it into the bed I have now. He built my dresser, built my shelves, and my bookshelf underneath my bed. Dad created a life for me, and I'm always going to love that ridiculously small apartment.

I love my home, and I can't imagine calling another place my home but we have to acknowledge Jess now. We have to address our living situation. "As much as I love living upstairs, we won't be living there any longer if I suffocate from Jess' stuff," I joke, but I may actually die due to Jess' belongings. "Come on, Dad, it used to be an office, it's not exactly a liveable space, and especially not for three people."

"We've managed perfectly fine, Lucy."

"Yes, when it was me and you, Dad," I argue. Dad and I have managed perfectly fine because we kept to our sides of the apartment. I had one side while he had another, separating us and giving us space. The kitchen, the centre of our home, is where we'd meet in the middle. But now, we can't handle this. "But now Jess is living here and we don't know how long he'll be here for. Maybe you should consider it."

     Dad sighs, and I question whether he'll consider it or not. And after another hour of sitting in the diner, we move upstairs to check the mess— to check if Jess is alive. I follow behind Dad with my books pressed against my chest.

When Dad pushes the door to the apartment open, the blaring sounds of rock music burst my eardrums and I drop one of my books, flinching at the impact. I round the corner, kicking my book to one side as I drop the rest on my bed which is piled with some of Jess' clothing. I come to a standstill when I finds Dad leaning over a sleeping Jess. "Please don't tell me he's asleep."

"How can he sleep with that damn—" The TV slips off one of the cardboard boxes, hitting the ground and I can only imagine that all two-inches of that thing are wrecked. Damn.

Dad looks towards me, and we have the same devilish look in our eyes as we look back towards Jess. "He won't even know..." I whisper, pointing down at him. "We can smother him now. It'll be quick and painless."

It's terrible that Dad is considering it.

He moves to turn off the music, and he looks back down to Jess who continues to sleep soundly, acting as if nothing's happened. "How can anyone sleep through that? It's like the huns are attacking..."

"Well, he's oblivious," I comment, looking at my cousin who hasn't even flinched, even when I hit my foot against the floorboards to see if he'll stir. He doesn't move.

"That's why you can just lie there while the rest of the world is going deaf." My foot hits the floorboards again and Dad glares in my direction, probably afraid that I'll break another floorboard. "Keep doing that and they'll be another broken floorboard," he says, reading my mind.

     I grin, and I look to where the broken floorboard is. It's next to one of the dining room chairs, and I laugh at the remembrance of it. My laughter then dies in my throat when I hear the muttering and groaning of Jess.

"He's risen," I gasp, a hand over my mouth as I pretend to act shocked.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I can't stand it. I'm going crazy! This place is awful! I can't live like this." Dad begins flailing his arms around, chucking clothes around in the process. A shirt hits my head, and I yank it off with a smile on my face. Somehow, amongst all this chaos, I find this entertaining.

"Just relax," Jess insists, rubbing his eyes as he's only just woken up. Oh yes, bless his ass.

"I can't relax. I can't sleep. I'm having nightmares about being chased around by boxes with arms, and they tackle me and pile clothing on top of my face." He chucks a few clothing items on the ground, startling me and Jess. Dad then continues to ramble, his voice wild and panicked. "They secure it around my head with packing tape, and I'm just lying there choking while you're sitting in the corner laughing, putting gel in your hair with a switchblade!"

"Should I be putting a tongue depressor in your mouth right about now?" Jess asks, and I snicker.

"We're moving. Tomorrow."

My eyes widen. I didn't expect that. "What? What are you—"

"I'm talking about us three getting a paper and finding a new place to live," he exaggerates, pointing his finger towards me and Jess.

"But I—"

"No buts!" I put a hand over my mouth to stop myself arguing... or laughing. "Ten o'clock tomorrow morning, I want you both up, washed, moussed, and ready to leave, end of story. Both of you go to bed."

I'm about to move, not wanting to argue with Dad but Jess isn't moving, and we're looking at him, confused. "I need the music on to sleep," he says, and I charge forward.

Dad hits the music back on, and I'm moving to turn it back off but Dad snatches both my arms and pushes me back towards my side of the room. "Dad, I will shove that radio down his throat. I swear to God, I will do it. I can't—"

"Lucy. Go to sleep."

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     I HAVEN'T SLEPT, NEITHER HAS DAD, but Jess slept like a freaking baby. I had to literally be dragged out of my bed by Dad all while Jess was stood in my mirror mousing his hair. I hate him, and I hope he knows I do because I've been telling him all morning as we've gone from apartment to apartment, grunting and groaning at every place we've seen. There seems to be one little flaw with each apartment and none of us can just agree on a place to live.

We wouldn't have to move if he hadn't been sent away by his mother. No, I don't blame Jess, I blame Liz obviously. I just wish I could stay in my home above the diner because that had been my home for the last seventeen years, and I'm not the biggest fan of change, especially when that change involves ugly painted walls and unbroken floorboards.

We leave the fourth apartment that morning with Jess saying, "Forget it."

     "Why? What was wrong with that one?"

Jess had been the first to reject every apartment for the past two hours, and I was growing increasingly annoyed. Sure, those apartments hadn't been the best but they were suitable options for the three of us. Besides, it's not like Jess will be living with us for long, and I will be moving out for college soon.

"It was pink."

"We can paint it," I argue.

"You mean I can paint it." I roll my eyes because I'm not opposed to the idea of painting, I just hate doing it.

"We can paint it together," Dad suggests before me and Jess attack one another.

Dad has had to deal with our constant bickering all morning and I think he's getting a headache. Earlier, when we were in the second apartment, I slipped across the super clean floor, and my body hit the floor with a thump because Jess had purposely moved to one side to avoid catching me. Dad helped me up off the floor, his head shaking as the realtor laughed awkwardly at me and Jess who glared at one another.

The reason we didn't get the first apartment was because me and Jess had actually scared the realtor into kicking us out. Dad was disappointed, obviously, but had we not been kicked out, I would've tackled Jess to the ground.

"Lucy won't paint," Jess says, and I scoff loudly.

"Oh, shut—"

Dad's hand grabs my shoulder, stopping me from lunging forward and attacking him. I'm very close to strangling him to death. "We can paint it together," he repeats.

"Like one big happy family," I grimace.

"Then we can hold hands and skip afterwards," Jess adds on,

     I listen to Dad and Jess bicker back and forth about which apartment they liked. Jess likes the one before with the cat but Dad doesn't like cats. I did assure him that the cat didn't come with the place, but he still hates the place. I suggested the apartment next to the bank but Dad has some weird issue with there being too many windows. I suggest putting up curtains and Jess repeats his stupid phrase, "Then we can hold hands and skip afterwards."

     "Why don't you just pick," Jess suggests, looking towards Dad who has been ticking off apartments all morning in the newspaper.

     "I'm not picking by myself."

     "You're the one who wants to move, and I'm sure Lucy would love to help." I send Jess a very fake, very two-faced smile, and he smiles back with the same level of enthusiasm. He's terrifying when he actually smiles. God.

     "So you like living the way we do— no space, no privacy?"

     "I got plenty of privacy."

     I listen to them argue again, and I contemplate walking off and seeing if they notice. However, Jess then announces that he has to go, and my ears perk up, thrilled to hear that he's leaving. I then begin smiling like a psycho, and Jess notices it. "Luce, don't smile so much, you'll scare the children."

     Jess has a job at Lorelai's where he has to clean the rain gutters, meaning Dad and I will have to look at the last three apartments without Jess' pestering.

     When he walks away, I finally breathe but not for long. One inhale and Dad is rushing away, and I chase after him at the speed of light so we can get through these three apartments and be done for the day.

The first apartment we enter is sweet. Two bedrooms, one bathroom but way too many stoves. Who on earth needs three stoves in one tiny apartment? There isn't much space in the living room, probably only fitting one sofa. The bedrooms are small, and because there's two, I would likely be sharing with Jess— something I would hate to do— and the bathroom doesn't have a sink. I stand in the apartment, utterly confused as to why this place even exists in the first place. Dad and I walk out of there fifteen minutes later, and we both say, "Absolutely not."

That's our first agreement of the day.

"Three stoves," I say in disbelief, actually shivering at the idea. "And no sink in the bathroom. Why is there no sink? Sinks are necessary in bathrooms."

"Did you see the storage closet next to the bathroom with the extra fridge?" My eyes widen at the idea of there being an extra fridge. Earlier, we saw an apartment that had two fridges for some unknown reason. There's three of us and because we live, eat and breathe in the diner, we don't need more than one fridge.

The second apartment we enter is a definite no, and I don't understand why Dad even brought us here. There's one bedroom and three— three bathrooms. The real estate agent who shows us around finds the three bathroom idea completely fascinating, and if I don't get out of here right now, I'll suffocate in this bathroom nightmare. Sure, there's three of us so one bathroom each but there's only one bedroom. "Absolutely not," I say the second we step out of there. "Did you really think we'd share a bedroom?"

It was a big bedroom but I am not sharing. We're leaving our apartment to prevent this— to prevent living in the same room.

"At least we'd get our own bathrooms."

"I hate you for taking us there."

He crosses it off quickly. "I thought the three bathrooms thing was a joke."

"Who on earth needs three bathrooms all to themself?" I don't actually want Dad to answer that because I really don't want to know why that apartment exists in the first place.

Finally, the third apartment answers all of my worries, and I actually start to like the whole idea of moving. However, the fantasy is crushed the second I meet the real estate agent who terrifies me with her peppiness and wide smile and her incessant questioning.

"Is this apartment for you or your..." Shs looks over at me, her smile terrifying. "Your sister?" My eyes widen, and I peer to my dad who appears to be just as shocked.

"Oh, no." Dad attempts to splutter out a response, obviously freaked because nobody has ever mistaken me to be anything other than his kid. "She's my daughter. We're trying to find a new place."

"Daughter?" The woman laughs, frightening me. "Well, I must say you look extremely young to have a daughter."

The only reason we won't take this place will be because of this woman.

If Jess had been here he would've burst into a horrifying pit of laughter, sending me into a blind rage.

The realtor ends up going on a tangent. She goes on and on and on about the wood burning fireplace that me and Dad have no interest in. The biggest issue Dad has with this place is that the apartment is on sixty-two and a half "B" Street, and we don't understand the whole "a half" concept. Just go to sixty-three.

The apartment is extremely nice with good natural lighting, one bathroom, two bedrooms, and one fridge. Surprisingly, I like this place— despite the realtor— and I can see myself being here but there's still an unsettling nerve in my stomach of actually having to move.

She leaves a rental agreement with Dad, and then she talks about how young Dad is. In actuality, there's younger fathers out there, much younger than my dad, but the realtor finds my dad fascinating. All I want to do is silence this woman's giggling. "If we take it, I hope she doesn't come with it," I mumble as I read through the lease agreement, noticing that it's only two years and by then, Jess will be long gone.

"If she says, "Oh, you look too young to have a kid," I will chuck her out of the pretty window." The main thing I find fascinating about this place is the bay window where I can picture myself reading. It's gorgeous.

"I am young." I beg to differ but I don't say anything, and I just push the lease agreement into his hands.

"I like this place," I admit, my eyes scanning the room one more time. "But I also like our place, and we don't know how long Jess is gonna stay with us. I mean, he might go to college or Attica, or whatever, and then it'll just be me and you again."

"Until it's just me, Luce," he says, and I frown at the idea of leaving home one day for college, but I'll always be visiting. "Then I'll just be stuck here with a new apartment, probably with neighbours I hate who are constantly cooking strong-smelling food."

"You won't be alone forever, Dad."

"I'm not getting a pet."

I did use to want a dog or some kind of animal but that's not what I'm talking about. "I'm talking about a potential lady friend, Dad."

Dad sighs, obviously not wanting to discuss this with me— his daughter. "Oh, boy, do I not feel good now."

"Dad, Rachel isn't the only woman in the world for you. Just imagine it..." I look at him with a hopeful eye. "You'll meet someone one day, you'll bring home and she'll see the teeny, tiny apartment, and Jess' body decomposing under all the clothes I smothered him in, and then she'll run away when she sees the single bed. You don't want that, right?" Dad hates when I'm right, and he hates it more when I talk to him about this kind of stuff.

Dad groans as he steps away. "This conversation is over."

"Come on, dad, just consider it."

With a sweet smile on my face, Dad takes the pen from me and he begins to scribble down his details onto the rental agreement, and I grin over his shoulder as the pen moves across the paper. This entire agreement could change Dad's life forever, but I'm a little excited about the idea.

     I pat a hand against Dad's shoulder when we walk out of the apartment after hearing that Mary— the real estate agent— would pass the information along to the owner. "Aw, dad, can I just say I'm very proud of you."

     He ignores me. "Go back home, I'll meet you there."

     Dad steps into Doose's market while I head back to the diner to check in on Caesar who has been managing the diner since ten o'clock. I then rush upstairs to do a quick surveillance to see if Jess has returned. He hasn't. I hope he's not bugging Lorelai, or Rory for that matter.

     I look at his boxes and the idea of them no longer being in my way is thrilling. I won't have to deal with all his crap. Yes, we'd have to share a bedroom but it'll be fine as long as Jess doesn't invade my side of the room. It was a big room with plenty of space for us to completely separate from one another.

     Ten minutes later after changing and sorting through my books, I rush back down to the apartment, a kick in my step as I step into the diner.

     I stop suddenly when I find Dad pacing up and down, frustrated and angry. What has Taylor done in the space of ten minutes? "He owns the apartment building and he's just thrown our lease into the bin. But it's fine because I have an even better idea." He comes to a stop, his hands grasping my shoulders, and I freeze. "Taylor wants to buy the flower shop next door and turn it into some sort of crazy plate shop so I'm going to buy the building."

     "He owns the apartment building?"

     "Not just that. He owns ten buildings. He's buying up the town, Lucy. It's turning into Taylorville."

     "It's like Monopoly, Taylor's version."

     How did we pick the one building that Taylor owns? How is he getting away with this? Why is he buying multiple buildings?

     "How much is the flower shop?" I then ask.

     "One-hundred thousand dollars." My eyes widen. Where has Dad been keeping that kind of money? "If I buy the building, I can knock the wall down and that'll give you and Jess enough room to live there."

     Dad turns and leaves the diner before I have the chance to ask another question.

     I guess we aren't moving after all.

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authors note:

jess & lucy's bickering is something else i tell ya

i love this chapter a lot idk why

also, there's going to be a lot more jess and lucy in future chapters now so stay tuned