The oppressive city heat clung to Merchaiass like a second skin, a constant reminder of his two-day trek. His worn suitcase dragged behind him, a symbol of his sudden, self-imposed exile from a family he felt only judged him.

He collapsed onto a weathered bench beneath a sprawling acacia, the dappled sunlight offering a fleeting comfort. He watched the rays dance through his fingers, a childish distraction from the gnawing hunger and thirst that had begun to set in. He hadn't eaten since morning, his meager funds stretched thin.

A bottle of water appeared beside him, offered by a kindly old man with a cane. Merchaiass accepted, his throat parched, and gulped it down with an ungraceful thirst. "Thank you for this, Uncle," he managed, wiping his mouth.

"No problem. Are you new here? I saw you two days ago. Are you looking for something?" the old man, who introduced himself as Grandpa J, asked. Merchaiass nodded, explaining his search for a cheap apartment.

Grandpa J's eyes twinkled. "Oh! I know one. It’s cheap, and the people there are nice. Do you want me to show you?" Merchaiass's excitement flared, and he readily agreed, helping the old man to his feet. Together, they set off, Merchaiass oblivious to the true nature of the 'nice' apartment that awaited him.