Bridgecrest Tower A male property agent met them the male property agent named Joel then introduced the apartment to them
Joel met them in the pristine marble lobby of Bridgecrest Tower, dressed in a navy suit that looked like it cost more than Eli's scooter. His hair was perfectly styled, and a sleek tablet was tucked under one arm.
"Eli, Jin? Great to meet you. I'm Joel Lin, from SilverKey Realty." His smile was white and practiced, the kind that had probably sold hundreds of units. "Thanks for being on time. Let's head up—elevator's just this way."
The glass elevator rose in silence, offering a view of the neatly landscaped courtyard below—perfect hedges, decorative gravel, and not a weed in sight.
"Bridgecrest is one of the only three premium property," Joel said smoothly as they ascended. "Gated, 24-hour security, soundproof walls, regular maintenance checks, and controlled access to every floor. Most of our residents are professionals or executives. It's quiet, safe, and very stable."
They stepped out onto the fourth floor, where the hallway was silent and cool, with recessed lighting and soft, echo-free carpet. Joel unlocked Unit 4B and stepped aside with a small flourish.
"Here we are."
The apartment was sleek, modern, and coldly beautiful.
The foyer opened into a spacious living area with floor-to-ceiling windows, offering a view of the Briggon wide neighborhoods. The walls were matte white, the floor polished hardwood, and the lighting system adjusted automatically as they stepped in.
"This unit is 92 square meters," Joel said, tapping his tablet. "Two bedrooms, one and a half baths. Open-plan kitchen with marble countertops, induction stove, built-in water filtration, and smart fridge connects to your phone, tracks expiration dates and has access to the internet."
Eli blinked at the glowing interface on the fridge. Jin poked at it, mildly impressed.
The living room had a mounted display panel for ambient temperature and air quality, and a button to request concierge services. A small balcony overlooked the quiet street, with safety glass and minimalist patio lights.
Joel led them down the short hall.
"Primary bedroom has built-in storage and blackout smart curtains."It was spotless, neatly lit, and eerily quiet.
"Second room's a bit smaller—ideal for a child, home office, or guest space."Jin peeked in. The room was bright, the view stunning. But it felt like a hotel. He didn't say anything.
The main bathroom had a backlit mirror, rainfall shower, towel warmer, and ambient music controls embedded in the wall. The bath near the entrance had equally clean lines.
"You'd be neighbors with Ms. Natalie, a venture capitalist, and Mr. Bobby, who runs a local tech start-up," Joel offered. "Very respectful. Very private. You might not see them much, which many of our tenants prefer."
They passed a door down the hall. Muffled piano music echoed faintly from behind it—delicate and precise.
"Oh, that's Dr. Song," Joel said. "Retired concert pianist. Practices daily. We've had zero noise complaints. She plays during acceptable hours."
Joel smiled as he stepped aside. "So, what do you think?"
Eli stood by the window, staring at the clean skyline. It was flawless. Maybe too flawless.
"It's nice," he said.
"It's cold," Jin muttered under his breath.
Joel laughed politely, mishearing. "Oh, temperature can be adjusted from anywhere in the apartment, or your phone."
They wrapped up the tour and rode the glass elevator back down.
Joel handed Eli a glossy folder. "We're reviewing applications on a rolling basis. Let me know soon, and I might be able to reduce the lease terms a bit."
Eli nodded and took the folder. He and Jin stepped out onto the smooth sidewalk, the air warm, the building rising like a pristine tower behind them.
"Too clean," Jin said once they were out of earshot. Eli chuckled. "Yeah. Feels like if you dropped a sock on the floor, someone might file a report."
Three places, three different lives.
Now, they had to choose one.
The sky was beginning to darken by the time Eli and Jin got back into their apartment in Henxhi. The door creaked like always, the floor sagged a little near the kitchen. Familiar sounds. Familiar smells. But neither of them moved to take off their shoes.
Eli stood in the middle of the small living room, glancing from the faded couch to the stack of flyers on the counter takeout menus, a bill with an angry red stamp, and the folder Joel had handed him at Bridgecrest Tower.
Jin dropped onto the couch and stared at the ceiling. "So," he said after a moment. "Which one?"
Eli didn't answer right away. He moved toward the kitchen, poured two glasses of water, and handed one to Jin before sinking into the armchair opposite him.
He took a deep breath.
Wenxi Flats.Warm. Lived-in. The almond cookies were still fresh in his memory, and Mrs. Elma had already asked about Jin's school plans like she was prepping for a parent-teacher meeting. The apartment had character—small, yes, but safe. Community.
Blue Fern.Close to school. Close to The Corner Pocket. That mattered. The smell of noodles drifting up from the street, the old men and women playing checkers near the gate, and Mr. Wong trying to fix everything with zip ties and good intentions. It had problems, but it felt alive.
Bridgecrest Tower.Immaculate. Convenient. Efficient. A place that practically whispered, You made it. But sterile. Cold. Eli had felt like an intruder just standing in the living room, like he'd stain something just by existing.
He looked at Jin, who now had one sock halfway off and a dumpling sticker still on his sleeve from lunch.
"We can afford any of them," Eli said carefully. "But that doesn't mean all of them are right."
Jin shrugged. "The big glass one was kinda cool. But…" He paused. "Didn't feel like us."
Eli smiled faintly. "I thought the same."
He pulled out a notebook, flipped to a clean page, and wrote three names:
Wenxi Flats
Blue Fern
Bridgecrest Tower
He tapped his pen.
"Wenxi's quiet. Comfortable. Blue Fern's close, chaotic, and has that noodle guy you liked. Bridgecrest is… polished, professional, but not very warm."
Jin tilted his head. "We don't need perfect. Just… something that feels like starting over doesn't have to suck."
Eli nodded slowly. "Then I think we already know."
Jin looked up, met his eyes, and gave a small nod.
"Blue Fern?" he asked.
Eli exhaled. "Blue Fern."
He stood up, took the folder from the counter, and set it aside. Then he picked up his phone and scrolled through his recent calls. Mr. Wong's number lit up.
It rang twice.
"Mr. Wong? It's Eli. Yeah, we saw the place today. We'd like to take the unit, if it's still available."
Pause.
A grin spread across Eli's face.
"Great. We'll come by to sign the paperwork tomorrow."
He hung up and looked at Jin.
"Well," he said, grabbing a broom. "Let's start packing."
From outside, the wind carried a faint scent of stir-fried onions and exhaust, and for the first time in weeks, their tiny Henxhi apartment felt a little less like home and that was okay.
Eli chose Blue Fern Apartments for many reasons—some practical, some emotional—but above all, it was because he could only think about his mother.
It wasn't the cheapest option. It definitely wasn't the most polished. The walls were a little cracked, the gate clanged like a warning bell, and the stairwell had a smell he couldn't quite place—part soap, part soy sauce, part something old and comforting. But it felt alive. It felt like a place where people still greeted each other in the hallways, where neighbors remembered birthdays and argued over whose kid tracked mud through the lobby. There was a pulse to it.
As they walked through the building with Mr. Wong, hearing the muffled sound of a TV game show in one unit and the rhythmic thump of someone practicing piano in another, Eli's thoughts kept drifting back to her.
His mother.
She'd spent the last few years locked inside her own quiet first from illness, then from coma but Eli remembered the way she used to live. How she'd always strike up conversations with shopkeepers. How she'd help the old woman across the street carry groceries, even if she was late. How she loved places that felt a little worn, a little lived-in, where stories echoed in the walls.
She would've fit in here.
She would've planted flowers in the windowsill and made friends with the noodle vendor downstairs. She would've brought homemade dumplings to the old man who fed stray cats behind the trash bins. She would've smiled at the chaos, called it charming.
Eli stood in the apartment's small living room, sunlight angling through the cracked blinds. It wasn't fancy. But it felt like somewhere people built lives not just waited for the next move.
He glanced at Jin, who was already testing the window latches with cautious interest.
Maybe this place wasn't just a stepping stone. Maybe it could be a real start.
And maybe, just maybe, if his mother ever came back to them…
She'd be proud he chose a place where life still happened around them. Where they weren't alone.
That's why Eli chose Blue Fern.