In a quiet, well-kept apartment building that feels more like a small sanctuary in the middle of the city, one girl stalks the halls with a black notebook, a blacker sense of humor, and a black cat with blood-red eyes.

Juliet is a 20-year-old goth girl with sharp eyeliner, a sharper tongue, and a deep love for two things: fashion design and her grandmother, the building’s sweet, endlessly patient landlady. But where her grandmother offers tea and gentle smiles, Juliet brings late-paying tenants icy stares and 3 AM visits that could make a grown man cry.

Behind the leather and piercings is a young woman who’s taken on the self-appointed role of enforcer, not out of cruelty, but out of fierce loyalty. Too many tenants have tried to take advantage of her grandmother’s kindness, weaving sad stories to avoid rent in a building that’s clean, safe, and more cared-for than most homes. Juliet’s not having it.

Armed with her “DEADBEATS” notebook, Juliet keeps track of every excuse, every delay, and every weakness she can use to get results. Allergic to cats? Mortis her beloved black compaion is ready to strike. Think she’s bluffing? Wait until she shows up in the dead of night, making the rest of your night look like a horror movie. Juliet doesn’t break bones, she breaks spirits. And she does it all with theatrical flair and dry, haunting humor.

But beneath the dark clothing and deadpan stare is a girl shaped by abandonment, who was raised with love by the one person who never asked her to be anyone but herself. She might read Edgar Allan Poe outside your door at 2 AM if you’re late on rent, but she’ll still bake lemon bars with her grandma the next day.

Welcome to the building. The walls are clean. The water’s hot. And if you’re late on rent, sleep with one eye open.

Juliet’s watching.