James had never before felt like such a<span style="font-style: italic">grown up</span>. Ever since he had gotten access to the entirety of his trust fund at age 18, his parents had kindly but persistently encouraged that he invest in real estate. It had felt like a pointless task, more than happy to spend a term in an on-campus dorm. Now, three years and 4 semester at uni later, his father had finally strong armed him into meeting with a realtor.<br/>For the last few weeks, James had viewed endless amount of pretty and polite two bedroom flats perfectly suited for not only single living but also to<span style="font-style: italic">grow into</span>, as his mother would put it.<br/>Utterly bored at the prospect of living alone, James had a few days ago asked to see larger properties, even if it meant subletting a room or two to manage the mortgate. While the suggestion had been well received, it meant his father had arranged for the family accountant to join him for the first viewing of the sorts.<br/>James, in his pressed blue dress shirt and khaki pants felt like a child at Easter, patiently followed by the realtor and the accountant as his surrogate parents.<br/>"As you will see, this unit has been sublet in precisely the manner you suggested," the realtor cheerily explained as she pressed the door chime thrice. Barely pausing, she then went on to unlock the front door, little care taken to the possibility that the current tenants were in. "She has four tenants living in each of the rooms, but you can certainly manage with fewer. There's a room perfectly suited for an office -"