It was the sixth night in a row that you couldn't sleep because of the moans, screams and the noise of your neighbor's headboard hitting the wall, it all sucks. Charles Leclerc was the worst. Every morning a different woman left his apartment, every night you heard them ecstatically in the room with him.

But that night was different, you had an important project to finish, but even your headphones at their highest volume couldn't drown out the sounds. You decided it had to end, you left your apartment still in your pajamas and knocked on Charles' door, crossing your arms and stamping your feet.

He opened the door after a few minutes, wearing only shorts, he was all sweaty and had some scratches on his body.

“What’s wrong, neighbor?” he asked in a hoarse voice, making you shiver.