Rent Due Part 1

The hallway smelled like fried fish, bleach, and weed.
Nia stepped over a busted toy truck outside Apartment 4B and dug through her purse for her keys. Her phone kept vibrating in her hoodie pocket, but she already knew who it was.
Dre.
Again.
She unlocked the door to the tiny apartment she shared with her little brother Malik and tossed her work shoes by the couch. Her feet ached from standing ten hours at the beauty supply store.
“Malik?” she called.
“In here.”
She found him at the kitchen table doing homework under the weak yellow light overhead. The refrigerator hummed louder than the TV.
“You eat?”
“Had noodles.”
Nia sighed. “Again?”
“We ain’t got nothin’ else.”
That hit harder than she expected.
She opened the fridge anyway like food might magically appear. Half a gallon of milk. Hot sauce packets. Old takeout containers nobody wanted to claim.
Her stomach twisted.
Friday was two days away, and rent was already late.
The phone buzzed again.
DRE CALLING.
Malik looked up. “You still talking to him?”
“No.”
“You lying.”
Nia rolled her eyes but didn’t answer. Kids noticed everything.
Truth was, she wasn’t talking to Dre… but she also wasn’t done with him.
That was the problem.
Dre had charm that made bad decisions feel temporary. Smooth talk. Nice smile. Fresh sneakers even when his lights got cut off. The kind of man who’d kiss your forehead after breaking your heart.
He’d promised he changed.
Last month, he promised he was done hustling.
Last week, he promised he had a job lined up.
Yesterday, he asked to borrow three hundred dollars.
Nia sat down across from Malik. “How school?”
“Aight.”
“You got attitude?”
“You got stress.”
She laughed despite herself. “You too grown.”
A loud knock hit the door.
Three hard bangs.
Nia froze.
Not again.
She opened it halfway and found Ms. Evelyn, the landlord, standing there in a pink robe and bonnet.
“You avoiding me now?” the older woman asked.
“No ma’am.”
“Rent still due.”
“I know. I’m getting it.”
“You said that Monday.”
Nia swallowed hard. “Just give me till Friday.”
Ms. Evelyn looked past her toward Malik at the table. Her face softened for half a second.
Then hardened again.
“Friday morning,” she said. “Or I file papers.”
The door shut.
Silence filled the apartment.
Malik kept staring at his math worksheet like he didn’t hear any of it.
Nia wanted to cry, but tears felt expensive these days.
Instead, she grabbed her phone and finally answered Dre’s call.
“What?” she snapped.
“Aye, damn. You always come in hot.”
“What you want?”
“I got a way you can make some money.”
Her chest tightened instantly.
“No.”
“You ain’t even hear me out.”
“I already know.”
“It’s legal.”
“Since when you got legal ideas?”
Dre chuckled softly. “Meet me downstairs.”
Before she could answer, he hung up.
Nia stared at the cracked phone screen.
“Don’t go,” Malik said quietly.
She looked at him.
“You know he trouble.”
That hurt because it was true.
Twenty minutes later, she still went downstairs.
Dre leaned against a black Charger like he owned it. Gold chain shining. Cologne heavy in the night air.
“You look tired,” he said.
“You look unemployed.”
He grinned. “There she go.”
Nia crossed her arms. “What’s the job?”
Dre lowered his voice. “My cousin need somebody to hold money for a few days. That’s it.”
“There it is.”
“Ain’t nobody asking you to sell nothing.”
“If it’s so safe, why he can’t hold it himself?”
Dre looked away for one second too long.
Exactly.
Nia stepped back. “I’m done with this.”
“You broke though.”
The words sliced deep because they were true.
“I’m still done.”
“You really gon’ struggle just to prove a point?”
Nia stared at him under the flickering parking lot light.
He didn’t understand.
Every bad choice in her life started with survival.
Just this once.
Just till payday.
Just hold this.
Just trust me.
That’s how people ended up trapped.
She shook her head. “I’d rather be broke than scared every time somebody knock on my door.”
For once, Dre had nothing slick to say.
Nia turned and walked back toward the building.
“Nia,” he called out.
She stopped but didn’t face him.
“You always think you stronger than everybody.”
“No,” she said softly. “I just know what happens when I’m weak.”
Upstairs, Malik was asleep at the table when she came back in.
Nia covered him with a blanket, then sat on the couch in the dark staring at the ceiling.
Rent still wasn’t paid.
Nothing was fixed.
But for the first time in a long time, she felt like she’d chosen herself over survival.