Later on in the day, the moving process is still yet to be completed. Cardboard boxes are spewed everywhere as the three continue to unpack and fix up the living room, dining room, and kitchen.

Max is taking care of the kitchen, since that is his favourite place in a house. He is pulling out kitchen equipment from a cardboard box that is placed on the island.

He takes out a frying pan. “My lucky pan…” He places it beside the box and pulls out a wooden spoon. “...my lucky spoon…” He sets it next to the pan then lifts a glass pan lid from the box. ”...My lucky lid…” He sticks his hand into the box to pull out another culinary item when the doorbell rings.

Ding dong!

Joseph perks up from unwrapping a lamp. “Who’s here to annoy us now?” he snaps.

Max’s eyes widen. “That must be Nicholas!”

He rushes out of the kitchen, through the dining and living room, into the foyer, halts in front of the front door and throws it open. He gazes up with an excited expression for his new roommate.

On the other side is his new roommate: Nick Ritchie. He has an extremely heavy-built physique with warm, small, brown eyes, shaggy brown hair with short bangs, and some facial hair. He is wearing a black sweatshirt with basketball shorts and tennis shoes. Any moment now he could literally fall on top of Max and go into a deep sleep.

Max’s smile sort of falters at the sight, but he manages to keep it up. “Oh hi…you must be Nicholas?” he asks, forcing to be as kind as possible.

“Yeah,” Nick replies in a dull, deep voice.

Max stares at him for a moment, waiting for him to say more. After the awkward silence has settled in, he scoots over to the doorjamb to make room for him to enter.

“Come on in…!”

Nick lumbers past him and into the house. Strapped on his back is a small backpack, which is most likely his luggage. Max closes the door behind him and catches up to him fairly easy since his pace is not the fastest. He leads the new roommate deeper to the left by the blinded window, where Joseph is.

Max extends his hand from his old roommate to his new roommate. “This is Joseph, one of your teammates and roommates.”

Joseph perks up from the lamp and up at Nick. “Hey,” he replies nonchalantly.

“And…!” Max leads Nick deeper into the room, through the spewed sofas, where Brandon is unpacking the cushions. “...this is Brandon, another teammate and roommate!” He sways his hand from Brandon to Nick.

Brandon gazes up at his new teammate. “Hey, uh, hi…” He gradually straightens up.

Nick lazily peers down at him. “Hi.”

Brandon fully faces him, dusting his shirt. “Uh, I’m Brandon Montour. You can, um, call me Monty though, since that’s, uh, what everyone calls me.”

“You can call me Nicky...or Ritch,” he tells him sweetly.

Brandon nods his head. “Alright, Nicky.”

“And who’s that?” Nick studies Max with his index finger at him.

Brandon nods to the Swede with a small smile. “That’s Maxi, he’s like our caretaker. And he makes really good Swedish meatballs.” He looks back up at Nick.

Nick’s eyes immediately light up. “Swedish meatballs?” He quickly faces Max. “Can I have Swedish meatballs?”

Max chuckles nervously. “Um, not right now! But later for lunch!”

“But I want some for my pre-lunch meal—”

“He said no Swedish meatballs right now!” Joseph barks from across the room.

Brandon turns to his teammate. “Joey…!” he hisses.

Joseph shoots him a haughty expression. “What?”

Brandon shakes his head, knowing that his teammate does not get his warning. “Forget it.” He turns back to his new teammate. “He’s always like that.”

Max slides up to Brandon. “Um, Brandon, would you go take Nicholas to his bedroom?” He flashes him a mighty big grin.

“Sure!” Brandon turns to Nick. “This way!”

He leads his new roommate back out into the foyer, pass the kitchen, and into the narrow hallway.

“Well,” Brandon starts off, “this house only has four bedrooms, so we can…”

Before he could finish his sentence, Nick detours into an opened room. Brandon follows him in.

They are in Brandon’s chosen bedroom.

“I like this room.” Nick then falls face down on the bed and stays there.

Brandon looks over at his now-occupied bed. “But that’s…”

His sentence is interrupted with Nick’s snores.

Brandon rounds the bed to get closer to his upper body. “Uh, Nicho— Nick. Nicky? Nicky?” He pokes his shoulder. “This is—”

Nick lifts his head up. He has a soft, yet satisfied expression. “I’ll go unpack.” He then climbs out of the bed and trudges out of the room.

All Brandon could do is gawk as Nick leaves him behind. “But…”

---

It is now lunchtime as the house. A name is needed for this house. Ah, how about the Monarossabergie House? Sounds legit!

Anyway, Brandon, Joseph, Max, and Nick are in the dining room, enjoying a Swedish lunch consisting of Swedish meatballs with gravy along with egg noodles, mashed potatoes, and lingonberry sauce. They are sitting around the small, circular dining table with the sunlight from the patio next to them as their light.

Max is the first person to speak: “So, um, Nicholas, where did you come from?” He perks to his right, where Nick is enjoying his lunch.

“From the Ontario Hockey League,” Nick replies, not stopping his eating.

“So you were just drafted?” Max assumes.

From across Max, Joseph is gawking at Nick with a fork filled with noodles in midair.

“In 2014,” Nick adds on with his focus on his food.

Joseph’s gawk turns much more obvious.

Max notices Joseph expression; he raises a light eyebrow. “Do you have anything to say, Joseph?”

Joseph eyes Nick. “How old are you, exactly?”

“Nineteen, I’m gonna turn twenty on December fifth.” Nick takes in an overloaded-spoonful of mashed potatoes.

Brandon and Max joins Joseph’s gawking at Nick. Nick seems oblivious to everyone else’s expression.

Max decides to change the subject to something much better: “Well, tomorrow is our first team practice! Who’s excited?”

Joseph and Brandon go back to eating with Nick.

Max gazes at his teammates. “No one…?”

Joseph looks up from cutting his meatballs. “I'm elated,” he replies in a flat tone.

“I like the enthusiasm, Joseph,” Max shoots back sarcastically.

Joseph continues eating.

“Anyway,” Max continues on, “our practice is—”

“—tomorrow at ten o’clock a.m., Kroc Ice Arena,” Nick cuts in without interrupting his job of finishing up his plate.

Max’s eyes fly open at Nick’s quick and accurate knowledge. “Wow! You know it already!”

“Yeah…, gotta be on top of things.” Nick pushes himself away from the table and rises up. “Now, I’m gonna take my post-lunch nap. I’ll be back before my pre-dinner nap.” With that, he trudges away from the dining table, down the living room, and around the wall of the foyer.

Now it’s just the three.

Brandon bobs his head as he cuts a meatball. “He’s a cool guy.” He dips the piece of meat into a pool of gravy and pops it in his mouth.

“He is…one interesting fellow,” Max musters out.

“He’s big,” Joseph points out bluntly. “And looks thirty.”

Brandon leans over the table to get closer to Joseph. “Well that’s a nice thing to say, Joey,” he comments in a sarcastic tone.

Joseph stares at him with an apathetic mien. “What? It’s true.”

“Did he find his bedroom?” Max asks Brandon, diverting his attention.

Brandon shifts himself to face the cook of his food. “Yup. In my bedroom.”

Joseph raises his thin eyebrows. “He took your bedroom?”

Brandon nods his head at him with pursed lips. “Yup.”

“Can we move him onto the roof—?”

“There’s four bedrooms,” Max points out, cutting into Joseph’s sentence.

“We’ve only seen three!” Brandon cries out. “Where’s the fourth?” He throws his hands into the air.

Max shifts in his chair. “I guess we hadn’t been acquainted with this house still. We’ll find it.”

“I hope, because right now, I think I have a bed buddy.” Brandon makes an unsure look.

Joseph snorts and rolls his eyes. “Good luck.”

---

Later that night, Brandon paw his way through through the narrow, dusky hallway toward his bedroom with his blanket over his shoulder. Once he feels his hand grip the doorjamb, he steps in carefully and faces the inside of the room.

The lamps are off, but with the luminous moonlight seeping through the windows, Brandon can make our Nick’s large figure sprawled on the bed.

“Uhhh…,” Brandon rounds the bed with his eyes on his roommate’s back. His eyes then scan for space on the bed, but there is virtually no room for him.

With a sigh, Brandon lowers himself and resorts to sleeping on the cream-coloured carpet with the blanket. But his attempted slumber on the floor does not last long when the snores come in.

Snore...snore...SNORK--!

“Nugh…” Brandon flips to his stomach and presses his hands against his ears. “Why does he have to be so loud…?” he croaks out quietly, throwing a dirty look at Nick’s direction.

Brandon stares down at the fuzzy carpet while he realizes his predicament. Where can I sleep?The sofa? He shakes his head. That does not sound comfortable--

SNOOORE--!

That’s it, I’m sleeping on the sofa. With rising irritation, he shoots up, collects his blanket, and scuffles out of the room.

Notes

E.1 "Welcome to America's Finest City"
Part 2/6
Episode 1/20