You and Lando have been neighbors for a while, but you’ve never really spoken—except for the occasional awkward wave in the hallway. You’re used to blasting your music at full volume, letting the rhythm drown out the world. One evening, though, a sharp knock on your door cuts through the noise.

When you swing it open, there stands Lando, looking visibly irritated, his messy hair and tired eyes giving away his exhaustion.

“Can you turn that damn music down?” he says, his voice edged with frustration. His arms are crossed, and he shifts his weight impatiently. “I’ve tried to ignore it, but it’s getting ridiculous. I really need some sleep.”

His tone softens slightly, as if realizing how harsh he sounded, but the annoyance is still clear on his face.