“I Thought Having My Cousin Move In Would Be Fun and Cost-Effective, But I Quickly Regretted It”

When my cousin Jake called me up one evening, asking if he could crash at my place for a while, I thought it would be a great idea. Living alone in my small apartment in Brooklyn was getting lonely, and I figured having some company would be fun. Plus, splitting the rent and utilities would definitely help me save some money. Little did I know, this decision would turn my life upside down.

Jake had always been the life of the party. Back in high school, he was the guy everyone wanted to hang out with. He was charming, funny, and always had a good story to tell. But that was years ago. People change, and not always for the better.

The first week was great. We stayed up late reminiscing about old times, watching movies, and cooking meals together. It felt like a sleepover that never ended. But soon, the cracks began to show.

Jake didn’t have a job when he moved in. He assured me he was looking, but days turned into weeks, and there was no sign of him even trying. Instead, he spent his days lounging on the couch, playing video games, and ordering takeout with what little money he had left. The apartment quickly became a mess, with dirty dishes piling up and trash overflowing.

I tried to talk to him about it, but he always had an excuse. “I’ll clean up later,” he’d say, or “I’m just waiting for the right job to come along.” It was frustrating, but I didn’t want to be the nagging cousin. I hoped he’d eventually get his act together.

To make matters worse, Jake started inviting his friends over without asking me. They’d stay late into the night, drinking and making noise. I could barely get any sleep, and my work performance started to suffer. My boss noticed and gave me a warning. I couldn’t afford to lose my job; it was the only thing keeping me afloat.

Financially, things were getting tight. I had always been careful with my money, tracking sales and discounts, and visiting thrift stores to make ends meet. But with Jake around, my expenses skyrocketed. He wasn’t contributing to the rent or utilities, and his constant takeout orders were draining my budget. I found myself skipping meals just to save a few bucks.

One evening, after a particularly rough day at work, I came home to find Jake and his friends having a party in the apartment. The place was trashed, and they were blasting music so loud that the neighbors had started banging on the walls. I snapped.

“Jake, we need to talk,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Not now,” he replied, barely looking up from his drink.

“Yes, now,” I insisted. “This can’t go on. You need to start contributing or find somewhere else to stay.”

He laughed it off, but I could see a flicker of anger in his eyes. “Chill out, cuz. It’s just a party.”

“No, it’s not just a party,” I said, my voice rising. “It’s every day. You’re not working, you’re not helping out around here, and you’re costing me a fortune.”

The argument escalated quickly. Harsh words were exchanged, and before I knew it, Jake stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him. His friends followed suit, leaving me alone in the wreckage of what used to be my home.

Jake didn’t come back that night or the next. Days turned into weeks without any word from him. Part of me was relieved; the apartment was quiet again, and I could finally get some sleep. But the damage was done. My finances were in shambles, my relationship with Jake was strained beyond repair, and I felt more alone than ever.

Looking back, I realize how naive I was to think that having Jake move in would be fun and cost-effective. It was a hard lesson learned: sometimes, even family can let you down.