Rent Free Revenge

During graduation season, I helped my roommates rent a four-bedroom apartment through my relative, only to be accused of pocketing a kickback. They were apartment hunting, so I asked my relative to help secure a four-bedroom place. The rent was twenty-two hundred dollars a month with first month's rent and a one-month deposit, and the landlord promised not to raise the rent for three years. That very afternoon, Chloe dropped a screenshot into our SnapChat group: "Westside Luxury Apartments, private bath, fifteen hundred all-inclusive." Then she tagged me: "@Zoe, that beat-up old building you found costs twenty-two hundred. Pocketing a seven-hundred-dollar kickback, aren't you?" The other two instantly chimed in. "Chloe, you're amazing! That value is insane!" "Zoe, your relative is really ripping us off." I didn't argue. I simply posted the deed, our messages, and a complete breakdown of utilities—zero markup, zero broker fees. Chloe sent back a smirking emoji: "Nice Photoshop skills. Almost bought it." The other two followed suit with matching laughing emojis. The next day, they sent their deposits straight to the landlord in the screenshot. The guy deleted his account and ghosted them immediately. The group went dead silent. Then Chloe began spamming my notifications: "Zoe, please help me. I have nowhere to live... Is that place of yours still available?" "It is," I said. "Only after the scene you pulled, my relative changed his mind. He now demands first month's rent plus a two-month security deposit before signing." I was stunned by the screenshot Chloe hurled into the chat. It showed a pristine modern apartment, followed by an eye-catching caption: "Westside Luxury Apartments. Fully furnished with private bath. $1,500 all-inclusive, free high-speed Wi-Fi." The room in the photo looked bright and brand new, definitely sleeker than the place I had tracked down. But the price was suspiciously cheap. Just a few hours earlier, I had shared the good news in our four-person group chat. Through my connections, I had locked down a four-bedroom place near downtown for twenty-two hundred a month, first month down and one month's security deposit. It was an eight-minute walk to the subway station, and the landlord—my uncle Raymond—promised not to raise the rent for three years. For four newly graduated girls on a tight budget, this was practically a miracle. The chat had erupted with cheers back then. "Zoe, you are literally the best! This location and price? I love you!" "Long live Zoe! We're not going to end up homeless after all!" Even Chloe had sent a heart emoji. Seeing their praise, I had felt a warm glow inside. To secure that lease, I had cashed in a massive family favor and even fronted a two-hundred-dollar holding deposit out of my own pocket. My uncle had agreed to hold the apartment until the weekend for us to sign. Everything had been arranged, and I was thrilled, thinking our four years of college friendship would continue in that cozy apartment. But Chloe's screenshot and follow-up tag were like a bucket of ice water dumped over my head. She asked me straight out in the chat: "Zoe, that dump you found costs twenty-two hundred. Pocketing a seven-hundred-dollar kickback, aren't you?" I froze. Our other two roommates, Mia and Harper, popped up right away. Mia: "Holy crap, Chloe, you're incredible! The value on this is insane!" Harper: "Zoe, your relative is pretty shady. Maybe we should just find a place ourselves." They played off each other seamlessly, acting as if it were a proven fact that I was scamming them. My heart sank, inch by inch. I didn't bother arguing about how you get what you pay for. I quietly uploaded a photo of my uncle's deed and screenshots of our text exchange discussing the rent. The paper trail was undeniable: zero markup, zero finder's fees. I had even broken down the shared utilities and maintenance costs; divided by four, each girl's share was cheaper than renting a standard private room anywhere in the city. I thought the facts would speak for themselves. The chat went quiet for a few minutes. Then, Chloe sent a smirking emoji. "Photoshop skills are getting so good these days. Almost bought it." Mia and Harper immediately followed with a string of laughing emojis. Just like that, they laughed the entire thing off. I didn't reply again. They were thoroughly convinced I was desperately scrambling to salvage a deal that earned me a kickback. Meanwhile, they were basking in their own shrewdness, too proud to dignify my "clumsy act." Throughout our four years of college, I genuinely gave them my whole heart. I never expected that on the brink of graduation, faced with cold, hard reality, our trust would prove so paper-thin. I locked my phone, sick of looking at the stinging messages. Chloe and the others had probably already created a separate chat, eagerly planning their move into the "bargain" apartment. And I was left looking like a fool. Not only was I out of pocket, but I had dragged my name through the mud. I texted my uncle, testing the waters: "Raymond, could you... hold the apartment for a few more days? Something came up on my roommates' end." He called back almost immediately, his voice warm and gentle. "I can give you another week. You girls just graduated; finding a place isn't easy." "I only offered that rate because of you, kiddo. Market rent around there is at least three grand." "Are they finding it too pricey? If money's tight for you girls starting out, I could knock off another two hundred." Hearing his genuine kindness made my nose sting. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I said softly, "It's not about the money, Raymond. It's on my end." After hanging up, I opened my laptop and instinctively typed "Westside Luxury Apartments" into the search bar. What popped up wasn't an official rental listing, but a flood of forum warning threads. "Exposing a shady subletter: Westside Apartments scam, takes deposit and blocks you!" "Anyone else get scammed by 'Direct Landlord Mark'? Let's file a police report together!" My heart skipped a beat as I clicked into one of the threads. The playbook detailed in the post was nearly identical to Chloe's screenshot. A so-called "luxury private bath," rent drastically below market rate, and a direct personal contact claiming to be the owner with "no middleman." I took screenshots, planning to send them once everyone cooled down. My finger hovered over the send button, then pulled back. In their current state of mind, anything I said would be dismissed as a desperate cover-up. I closed the window and decided to stay quiet for now. Yet that very afternoon, Chloe proudly announced in the chat that she had already transferred the money. Before I could even speak, the deal was done. Since they refused to trust me, reality would have to teach them a lesson. I was no martyr; I wasn't about to beg people to believe me after they slandered my character. With graduation upon us, human nature was proving fickle. If I couldn't protect them, I had to protect myself first.The next morning, the dorm's atmosphere was bizarre. Chloe, Mia, and Harper huddled together, deliberately speaking at a volume I could easily hear. "I already spoke to the landlord. He's super chill," Chloe said, dripping with smugness. "He told me tons of people are trying to tour the place. If we want it locked down, we have to send the deposit right now." Mia chimed in immediately. "Then what are we waiting for? Send it! Where else are we gonna find a deal like this?" Harper hesitated. "Transferring cash directly to a stranger... is that really safe?" Chloe scoffed, tossing a sidelong glance my way. Her eyes were filled with disdain and pity, as if looking at an outdated fool left behind by the world. "Harper, you're way too naive. What year is it? Who worries about that anymore?" "Besides, better to trust a stranger than someone using the guise of a relative to rip off their own friends, right?" She didn't raise her voice, but every single word pierced like a needle. I kept my headphones on and pretended to listen to music, ignoring her. Mia backed her up. "Exactly. Some people have zero shame, tossing away their dignity for a few hundred bucks. Good thing Chloe saw right through it." The three of them giggled, the camaraderie between them thick. At that moment, it became painfully clear: I had been cast as the villain, the very glue holding their newfound bond together. That afternoon, Chloe declared loudly in our SnapChat group: "Girls, let's do this!" Right after, she dropped a screenshot of a wire transfer. The recipient name read "Westside Direct Rental Mark." Without missing a beat, Mia and Harper posted identical payment confirmations seconds later. Each of them had transferred fifteen hundred dollars—a full month's rent. Having sent the money, Chloe acted like a triumphant general, smugly tagging me in the chat. "@Zoe, see that? That's what efficiency looks like." "Our housing is sorted. You can keep that relative's dump all to yourself." When that notification popped up, I was sitting in the library, compiling files on the rental scams I had researched. Back in the dorm that evening, the three of them were excitedly discussing their upcoming move. "I checked—it's only two metro stops from the biggest mall! Shopping is going to be so easy!" "Oh my god, fifteen hundred all-inclusive with free Wi-Fi? Is this landlord running a charity or something?" "We seriously have to thank Chloe. If it wasn't for her, Zoe would've scammed us into that overpriced, run-down shack." They didn't bother lowering their voices in the slightest. I drew my bed curtains shut, cutting myself off from their suffocating little world. I dialed my uncle again. "Raymond... please hold off on leasing the place to anyone else for now." "My roommates might... change their minds." I couldn't explain the full mess, so I kept it vague. My uncle was gracious as ever. "Sure thing. I'll give you another week." "You're all classmates, and finding housing after graduation is tough. Happy to help if I can." Gripping the phone, my fingertips turned cold. Listening to my uncle's steady, genuine kindness while contrasting it with the vicious malice of my roommates left a bitter taste in my mouth. This was my family—honest and decent. Yet the girls I had lived with for years chose to assume the absolute worst of me. That night, I tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep. Muffled, giddy whispers drifted from Chloe's bed. She was on the phone, bragging to her boyfriend, Derek. "I handled something huge today. Zoe from our dorm tried to hustle us into this trash apartment to pocket a kickback, but I busted her on the spot." "I found us an incredible place instead. Super cheap, gorgeous—the girls basically worship me right now." "What? Risk? Derek, you're like Harper, way too cautious." "I went through his Ins. He posts motivational quotes every single day. You can tell he's a decent guy." I shut my eyes, listening to her barely suppressed giggles, a heavy knot tightening in my chest. She didn't feel a shred of remorse. She was genuinely getting off on putting me down and playing the hero. I knew it was a scam, yet my hands were tied. Saying anything would just trigger another round of "Photoshop" accusations and claims of jealousy. I knew the climax of this farce was right around the corner.By the third day, Chloe and the other two had already started packing their suitcases. They were even browsing online for rugs and curtains. Chloe waved a hand dismissively. "Don't sweat it, I've got it all picked out. The second we move in, I'll place the order." She had cemented herself as the undisputed leader of their trio. Mia and Harper hung on her every word, their eyes practically starry with admiration. I, meanwhile, had become a complete ghost to them. They didn't even bother dropping passive-aggressive digs anymore; pure, iced-out silence was their chosen way to convey their disgust. I kept to my routine—hitting the library, studying in quiet corners—acting completely indifferent to their grand "new life." During the afternoon, my uncle called. "Zoe, I've got two other groups asking for tours, and they're in a real rush." "What's the word with your classmates? We can't drag this out forever, sweetie." I paused, then said, "Raymond, just tell them the place is tentatively taken and tours are on hold." "Taken by who?" he asked, confused. "Just say you're holding it for my roommates until they sort things out." Silence hung on the line for a few beats before he sighed. "Alright, if you say so. Just make sure you know what you're doing." "I do." Hanging up, I looked out the library window. Sure enough, by late afternoon, Chloe—who hadn't uttered a peep in the dorm chat—suddenly dropped a voice memo. I tapped it. Her scratchy, tear-choked voice blasted out of the speaker. "Zoe... are you free right now?" I didn't answer right away. The show was starting. Then came a second memo, and a third. "The landlord... I can't reach him." "His number's completely disconnected." "We went to the address. There's no Westside Luxury Apartments there at all—it's an abandoned construction site!" Her tone grew more panicked, spiraling into a full-blown sob. "He's... he's a fake landlord. No, he's a scammer!" "He took the money and deleted his account! All three of us got taken!" The group chat plunged into dead silence. Mia and Harper didn't even dare to send an emoji. I could vividly picture their faces right then—drained of every drop of color. About ten minutes later, Chloe began blowing up my phone with desperate texts. "Zoe, I'm so sorry. We were wrong, we never should've doubted you." "Please, help me out. I won't have a roof over my head next month." "All three of our allowances went into that deposit. We're completely broke." "Didn't you say your relative had a place? Could you ask him again, please?" Reading those pathetic pleas brought no satisfaction, only a deep, hollow exhaustion from being used. I waited another ten minutes before closing my textbook and picking up my phone. I ignored every apology and desperate plea. Instead, I simply dropped the document I had compiled days ago—"Recent Trends in Rental Scams"—into the chat. Beneath it, I typed a single line: "During graduation season, reading the news never hurts." The chat went dead again. I don't know how much time passed before Chloe's icon flashed once more. This time, there was no voice memo. Just a single line of text. A line trembling with her absolute last shred of hope: "Zoe... is that apartment... still available?"Looking at Chloe's text, my fingertips tapped lightly against the screen. The dorm room was terrifyingly quiet. From across the space, I could hear suppressed, shaky sobs coming from the other two beds. I didn't reply to the chat immediately. Taking my time, I shut my laptop, grabbed a half-read paperback, flipped to the dog-eared page, and read line by line. My phone vibrated repeatedly on the desk. I didn't spare it a glance. Soon after, phone calls from Mia and Harper started rolling in, alternating back and forth. I left them ringing. About half an hour later, a knock rattled the dorm door. I didn't need to look to know who was standing on the other side. Setting my phone down, I walked over and pulled the door open. Chloe, Mia, and Harper stood in the hallway. Their eyes were red and swollen, their faces streaked with tears and sheer panic. Especially Chloe. The same girl who, just two days ago, had strutted around with her nose in the air, looking down on me with utter contempt. Her lips trembled, and the moment she met my eyes, tears spilled over again. "Zoe..." The second she spoke, a sob broke through. I leaned against the doorframe, regarding her with a blank expression. Behind her, Mia and Harper nudged each other forward. Finally, Mia gathered the courage to take a step toward me, her voice barely louder than a whisper. "Zoe, we're sorry. We messed up." "We never should've doubted you. We... we completely lost our minds." Harper nodded frantically beside her, teary-eyed. "She's right, Zoe. Please, be the bigger person and don't hold it against us. We're truly at a dead end here." The three of them stood there like convicted felons awaiting sentencing. And I was the judge holding the gavel. Unable to bear the crushing silence any longer, Chloe broke down completely. She lunged forward, trying to grab my hand, but I cleanly sidestepped her touch. My hands stayed by my sides, fingers cool, my gaze devoid of any warmth. "Zoe, I'll apologize however you want! I'll get down on my knees if that's what it takes!" "Please, just help us one more time. Just this once!" Their frantic weeping and begging began drawing curious looks from girls passing by in the hallway. I frowned, having no desire to turn this into a public spectacle. I finally broke my silence, my voice quiet but sharp. "The apartment is still available." Hearing those words, a spark of desperate hope flared in their eyes. Chloe's crying choked off, replaced by an expression of pure, shocked relief. However, my next sentence froze them right where they stood. I enunciated every single syllable slowly and distinctly. "Only after the scene you pulled, my relative thinks you're unreliable. He's now demanding first month's rent plus a two-month security deposit before he'll sign."