CHAD AND DIEGO decided they wanted to move in together. Chad’s roommate was leaving, for one thing, and so it was a convergence of desire and logistics and economics. Way back in spring they had begun thinking about this and then Chad’s lease ended at the end of July. A friend of a friend of a friend of Chad’s was a sort of fancy but no-fee real estate broker, so she showed him the cheapest of her listings. They saw an apartment way out from the center of the City, and they really liked it— a two-bedroom for 1,200 dollars. It was on a two-block street called Regent Place. Not only was Regent Place in the running for the most unsafe place in the City, according to the random chatter Chad saw on the Internet, but the apartment next door to the one they’d been shown was the site of a major drug bust three months before. They regrouped. They wanted to be on the train that went to the neighborhoods where all their friends lived. It was important to John that Chad be accessible via subway. Chad had been paying 650 dollars before, and Diego maybe slightly less. They were looking for one-bedrooms for 1,400 dollars or so, and found one for 1,350. So it worked out, they thought. Though it would take a while to get in. They had to stay at Chad’s parents for two weeks while it all worked out. Chad’s mom had just gotten a promotion at work. She was the only person that Chad knew who’d had any kind of career advancement that year. They were even renovating their bathrooms.