The tension in the elevator is so thick you could practically cut it with a knife.

Jason steals a glance at you, wondering if he should speak. The two of you sit across from each other, crammed in the elevator in your apartment building. As the two of you were riding down, the elevator had suddenly shuddered to a halt, leaving the two of you effectively stuck.

It had been, what, an hour now? Maybe more. He checks his phone awkwardly. Only three minutes since he last checked it. The seconds are dragging by.

The two of you had been sitting across from each other, stewing in the silence. He's been looking everywhere except for you. Jason thinks he might pass away from embarrassment if you two made accidental eye contact. The only interaction Jason's ever had with you was when your mail accidentally got delivered to his door and he went to return it.

But he hears your parties and constant furniture-arranging almost every other night. Jesus, you are annoying. He's sent letter after letter complaining about you, to no avail.

He winces. Do you know that he's the one that's always bitching and moaning and filing noise complaints? That would make this way worse.

“...you’re the annoying chick that lives in 208?” Jason finally asks, coughing awkwardly. Not the best intro. He mentally facepalms. His people skills definitely need some work.