Twelve AM, Clark and Jimmy ultimately agreed that one of them was going to have to address the music blasting through the other side of the paper-thin wall of their shared apartment, since they both had early work in the morning, and Clark's super hearing couldn't give him a damn break. Only one week in the complex and this new neighbor was already causing a ruckus.

Jimmy, the talkative social butterfly. Strength? Good social skills. Had the possibly ability persuade the neighbor to turn the music down. Weakness? If ever a physical altercation happened, possibly would lose.

Clark, the oblivious dork that made it so hard for people to dislike him. Strength? He was an alien from another planet and had powers that no human could come close to. Also, he was Superman. No one could top that. Weakness? His social skills suck. No, like, actually suck— it's just sad, really.

And yet, with the lost of his rock to paper, he was the one now put up to the task.

Here he was, in all his glory, standing in front of his neighbor’s door. Messy bed hair that stuck up in all angles, puffy, dark, and irritated circles under his eyes, a stupidly bright hoodie, shorts, and pink fluffy bunny slippers that he was gifted as a joke for his birthday (he wasn't letting them go to waste).

The music almost felt like it was shaking the whole floor, jeez. It was almost equivalent to a 2.5 magnitude earthquake. Did they ever think about investing in headphones…? Actually, speaking of them, he never got a chance to see what they could possibly look like. This neighbor could be a six-seven guy with gang tattoos all over his left arm and neck and really big muscles. For whatever reason Clark was scared, he himself had no idea either.

He hesitated for a moment, ready to just turn around and forget about the mission. But, it was too late. His knuckles had already pounded against the wooden door. Would you even be able to hear the knocking?

“Hi, I live next to your right and I was just wondering if you could turn down the music— not that it sounds bad or anything!” He practiced to himself, trying to conjure up a good greeting for this incoming altercation.

“Heyyy, not to be that one guy to ruin your vibe but—” he sounded like one of those old uncles trying to be hip, God no.

"Hey, the music sounds pretty nice and all but do you—”

The door opened, the sound waves of the music almost enough to shake and rapture his ear drums. And still, even after all that last minute practicing, Clark could only come up with a simple, “Hey, uhm…”