*Episode 1: The House Rules*
The first time Milo Park met Cassian Varela, Cass called him "a walking fire hazard."
The second time, Cass told him to stop eating cereal out of the box in Jay’s kitchen.
The third time, Jay said, "Milo, this is my brother Cass. Cass, this is Milo. Please don’t kill each other."
That was two years ago.
Now, Milo is standing on Cass’s front porch with three suitcases, one dying monstera plant, and zero chill.
The door opens before he can knock.
Cass Varela looks exactly like he did in Milo’s memory, except worse. Taller. Colder. More expensive. He’s wearing black sweats and a grey t-shirt and an expression that says _I would rather be anywhere but here._
He’s 6'2 of pure annoyance. And Milo has to live with him for the next two months.
"You're late," Cass says.
"Jay said 3PM," Milo says, hoisting a suitcase higher. "It’s 2:58. That’s early."
Cass doesn’t move from the doorway. "Jay’s not here."
"I know." Milo smiles. It’s his best weapon. Bright, too wide, slightly unhinged. "That’s why I’m here. With you. For the summer. Remember?"
Cass stares at him. Then at the plant. Then back at Milo.
"The plant is staying outside," Cass says.
"It has a name. It’s Gertrude."
"I don’t care."
Milo steps forward anyway. Cass doesn’t block him, but he doesn’t help either. Milo drags the suitcases in himself. The house smells like wood and coffee and something clean that Milo immediately wants to mess up.
It’s nice. Too nice. High ceilings, big windows, art on the walls that probably costs more than Milo’s tuition.
"Guest room is upstairs," Cass says. "First door on the left. Don’t touch anything else."
"Got it, boss."
"Don’t call me that."
Milo drops the suitcases. Gertrude gets set on the entry table, which Cass immediately frowns at.
"So," Milo says, clapping his hands. "Ground rules?"
"We’ll talk about that after you unpack."
"Right. After I unpack. Which will take five minutes because I’m a minimalist."
"You brought three suitcases."
"One is snacks. One is clothes. One is art supplies. Very minimal."
Cass rubs his temples. "Jay said you were responsible."
"Jay lies when he loves you."
That gets a reaction. The corner of Cass’s mouth twitches. Not a smile. Just... something.
"Don’t make me regret this," Cass says.
"You won’t," Milo says, too fast. "I’m great at housesitting. I watered Jay’s plants for a whole semester. They’re still alive. Mostly."
Cass turns and walks toward the kitchen. "Kitchen is off limits after 10PM."
"Why?"
"I work early."
"Okay. What about laundry?"
"Basement. Don’t mix my whites."
"Do you have a color I can’t wear?"
Cass stops. Turns. "Are you going to ask questions for the entire summer?"
"Probably."
"Great."
---
An hour later, Milo has claimed the guest room. It’s bigger than his dorm and has a window that faces the backyard. There’s a desk, which he immediately covers in sketchbooks.
His phone buzzes.
*JAY:* _you alive?_
*JAY:* _did Cass murder you yet?_
*MILO:* _no but he threatened Gertrude_
*JAY:* _lmao. be nice to him. he’s stressed about work_
*MILO:* _he’s always stressed_
*JAY:* _yeah. that’s why I need you there. make him laugh or something_
*MILO:* _I’m not a therapist_
*JAY:* _you’re annoying. same thing_
Milo stares at the last text.
Make him laugh.
Right.
Downstairs, Cass is in the kitchen. He’s making coffee even though it’s 4PM. He looks more tired up close. There are dark circles under his eyes and a pen mark on his hand.
"Do you want any?" Cass asks without looking up.
"Coffee? At 4?"
"I didn’t sleep."
"Oh." Milo leans against the doorframe. "Bad night?"
Cass shrugs. "Work."
"Architecture is hard, huh?"
"It’s fine."
Silence. Awkward, heavy silence.
Milo hates silence.
"So," Milo says. "House rules. Let’s do it. I’m ready."
Cass pours the coffee. "Rule one. No parties."
"Obviously. I’m not 16."
"Rule two. Don’t touch my office. Don’t touch my desk. Don’t touch my books."
"Your books are very safe from me."
"Rule three." Cass finally looks at him. "Don’t bring anyone home. Especially not..." He pauses. "Especially not dates."
Milo nods. "Easy."
"Rule four. Clean up after yourself."
"Also easy."
"Rule five." Cass hesitates. "Don’t... don’t talk about Jay’s parents with him on the phone. He’s dealing with enough."
Milo’s chest squeezes. Jay didn’t tell him that part. "Okay. Yeah. Of course."
Cass seems to relax a fraction. "That’s it."
"What about rule six?"
"There is no rule six."
"There should be a rule six. Rule six: Be cool to each other."
Cass takes a sip of coffee. "That’s not a rule, Milo. That’s a request."
"Same thing."
"No, it’s not."
Milo grins. "We’ll see."
---
Dinner is a disaster.
Milo offers to cook. Cass says no. Cass cooks. Milo offers to help. Cass says no again.
So Milo sits at the counter and watches.
Cass moves efficiently. Chopping, stirring, not wasting movement. He’s good at it. Of course he is.
"You don’t have to watch me," Cass says.
"I’m not. I’m just... appreciating the architecture of your knife skills."
"That’s not a thing."
"It is now."
Cass ignores him. The silence comes back.
Milo kicks his feet against the stool. "So. Do you hate me?"
Cass doesn’t look up. "I don’t know you."
"You know I’m Jay’s best friend."
"That’s not the same."
"Okay. Well. I don’t hate you."
"I didn’t ask."
"I know. I’m just volunteering information. It’s what I do."
Cass plates the food. Pasta. Simple. It smells good. He sets a bowl in front of Milo without asking if he wants it.
"Thanks," Milo says.
"Mm."
They eat in silence. Milo tries to last 30 seconds. He lasts 10.
"So what’s your favorite color?"
Cass sets his fork down. "Why?"
"Conversation. Humans do it."
"My favorite color is none of your business."
"Black. It’s black. You’re wearing black, your coffee mug is black, your soul is probably black."
Cass almost smiles. Almost. "It’s navy."
"Navy is just sad black."
"It’s not sad."
"It is. Black is confident. Navy is black that went to therapy."
Cass stares at him. Then, very slowly, he picks his fork back up.
Milo takes that as a win.
---
By 11PM, Milo is in bed but not asleep. The house is too quiet. At his dorm there’s always noise. People in the hall. Music. Here, it’s just... quiet.
A floorboard creaks.
Milo sits up. Light from the hallway cuts across his floor.
Footsteps. Then stopping outside his door.
A knock. Soft.
Milo opens it. Cass is there, still in sweats, holding two mugs.
"Couldn’t sleep?" Milo whispers.
"Insomnia," Cass says. "Tea. Chamomile."
"I hate chamomile."
"It helps."
Milo takes the mug. It’s warm. "Thanks."
They stand there for a second.
"You don’t have to be nice to me, you know," Milo says. "I know this is weird. Me being here."
"I know," Cass says. "Just... try not to make it worse."
"Define worse."
"Don’t burn the house down."
"I won’t."
"Don’t get arrested."
"Also won’t."
"Don’t make me like you."
The words hang there.
Milo blinks. "What?"
"Nothing." Cass rubs the back of his neck. "Go to sleep, Milo."
He walks away before Milo can answer.
Milo closes the door and stares at the tea.
_Don’t make me like you._
Yeah. That’s not going to be a problem.
---
Day 2 starts with an argument about music.
Milo is playing something upbeat while making toast. Cass walks in, hears it, and turns it off.
"Some of us are working," Cass says.
"It’s 8AM on a Saturday."
"I have a deadline."
"On a Saturday?"
"Yes."
Milo crosses his arms. "You need a break."
"I need quiet."
"You need joy."
"I need you to stop talking."
Milo gasps, dramatic. "You wound me."
Cass walks to his office and closes the door. Hard.
Milo eats his toast in silence. Then he texts Jay.
*MILO:* _your brother is a cryptid_
*JAY:* _what_
*MILO:* _he only comes out to complain and drink coffee_
*JAY:* _be patient with him_
*MILO:* _I’m very patient. I’m the most patient person_
*JAY:* _you once waited 4 minutes for pizza and called it torture_
*MILO:* _fair_
He puts the phone down. Through the office door, he can hear typing. Fast, angry typing.
Milo looks at his sketchbook. Then at the closed door.
Screw it.
He knocks.
"No," Cass calls.
"I brought you a peace offering."
"No peace offerings."
"It’s cookies. From the store. I didn’t bake them. I’m not a liar."
A pause. The door opens a crack. Cass looks exhausted.
"What kind?"
"Chocolate chip. The good kind. With chunks."
Cass sighs and takes the package. "Thank you."
"You’re welcome. Also, I’m sorry about the music."
"Mm."
Cass starts to close the door.
"Wait!" Milo says. "Can I ask you something?"
"What?"
"Why did you say yes? To me staying here? You could’ve said no."
Cass looks at him. Really looks.
"Because Jay asked," Cass says finally. "And because..." He stops. "Because the house is too quiet when he’s gone."
Then he closes the door.
Milo stands there, holding nothing, feeling everything.
_The house is too quiet when he’s gone._
Oh.
Oh no.
---
By day 4, they’ve settled into a rhythm.
Cass works. Milo tries not to bother him. Fails.
Milo cooks. Cass pretends not to like it.
They watch TV in the evenings, sitting on opposite ends of the couch, three feet of distance that feels like both a canyon and nothing at all.
On day 4, Milo breaks rule #3.
Not on purpose.
They’re in the kitchen. It’s raining outside. Cass is making tea again. Milo is drawing at the counter.
Cass says something about a client. Milo makes a joke. Cass snorts. Actually snorts.
Milo looks up, surprised. "Did you just laugh?"
"I did not."
"You did! I heard it!"
"It was a cough."
"It was a laugh-cough. That counts."
Cass sets the tea down harder than necessary. "You’re impossible."
"I’m charming."
"You’re exhausting."
"But you like me a little."
"I don’t."
"Liar."
Something shifts. The air gets warmer. Cass is standing too close. Milo can see the flecks of grey in his eyes.
Milo should step back. He doesn’t.
"Rule three," Cass says, voice low.
"I know."
"Do NOT kiss my brother."
"I’m not Jay."
"I know who you’re not."
And then Milo does the dumbest thing he’s done all week. He leans in. Not all the way. Just enough.
Cass doesn’t move away.
The doorbell rings.
Both of them jump back like they’ve been caught.
Cass clears his throat. "Delivery."
He walks out, leaving Milo with a racing heart and cold tea.
When Cass comes back, he doesn’t look at Milo.
"Don’t do that again," Cass says quietly.
"Okay," Milo says. His voice is smaller than he wants it to be.
"Good."
But neither of them moves.
Outside, the rain keeps falling.
---
*END OF EPISODE 1*
