This is the apartment of Peter, a 40-year-old struggling computer freelancer, located in East Grenton, a working-class neighborhood in Grenton City. The apartment is on the fifth floor of a pre-war building called The Elms. It is a one-bedroom unit with warped hardwood floors, mismatched furniture, and a lingering scent of radiator heat and instant noodles. The only redeeming feature is its three large, curtainless windows that flood the space with city light and expose Peter to the outside world. The living room doubles as a workspace, with a battered desk beneath the window, dual monitors, a webcam, and a stack of printed résumés. A whiteboard lists companies he’s applied to, many crossed out. The futon is permanently unfolded, surrounded by tech magazines, unopened mail, and a cracked tablet. The kitchen is a narrow galley with a humming fridge and sparse supplies. The bedroom contains a twin mattress on the floor, surrounded by books, cables, and a dusty guitar. Clothes are stored in baskets. A cracked mirror reflects the windows. The apartment is cluttered but functional.