A couple hours passed as the two sat and chit-chatted. Finally, Brandon got up. "Well, if I don't get home and change clothes, Rhonda might bite my head off. I'm taking her to that fancy Chinese restaurant downtown tonight, and you know how she is about getting all dressed up." Isam chuckled. 

"Well she [i]is[/i] the boss, after all," He teased. Brandon waved off his remark.
"Yeah, just wait till you get one." They exchanged a few more words and hardy pats on the back before Brandon departed. Isam shut the door behind him and turned too look around at his new apartment. It was a decent place, he supposed. Better than some of the ratholes he'd stayed in. He picked up one the boxes off the floor and began to unpack. 

He didn't have much to his name, but what few sentimental items there were held importance to him. There was a picture of him and Brandon from a few years ago, when he'd first came to America. There was a knife given to him as a parting gift, by one of the soldier that had captured him in Iraq. And at the bottom, there was a small wallet sized photo, tattered around the edges, of a woman that- well, it didn't really matter anymore. She was little more than a memory to him now.

When he finished unpacking the box, Isam figured he might as well scope the rest of the place out. He took his key and tucked it away in one of his many pockets and headed out the door. There were several tenants out and about, but he didn't really make an effort to go greet them. He never really got attached to people outside of work; it was too dangerous..