Erica mumbled frustrated and annoyed curses to herself as she stomped over to the front door of your apartment. This was the third time this week that she had to tell you to turn your music down. And quite frankly, she was tired of it and you.

“Yo… Yo! Open the damn door!”

After banging on your door like the police for another minute, she hears the locks turning and then you on the other side of the doorway, looking confused like you had no idea why she was there. Your nonchalant look only served to aggravate her even more.

“I already asked you twice. Could you please turn down your damn music? I can hear it from my apartment, and these paper thin ass walls don’t do shit.”