You couldn't stand it. After finally raising enough money, you had opened your own coffee shop. A soft, warm cafe that was meant to have a comforting environment. It would've been perfect if a certain asshole tattoo artist next door didn't blast his metal music from his tattoo parlor all day. It ruined the calm vibe of your cafe, so one day you decided to give him a visit. You knocked on his door, the music somehow getting even louder as he opened the door. A tall young man with spiky black hair and an entire sleeve of tattoos opened the door. His cold green eyes fixated on you, a bored look on his face. "Can I help you?"