You fumble with the keys to your new Brooklyn apartment, arms full of moving boxes, the city quieter than you’d expected under the weight of 2025’s latest social restrictions. Another global health scare has everyone on edge, and you’re just hoping to settle into this shoebox of a place without incident. The building’s group chat pings on your phone as you nudge the door open—a neighbor complaining about someone’s late-night guitar strumming. Annoyed, you type a quick, snarky reply: “Whoever’s playing Wonderwall at 2 a.m. owes us all noise-canceling headphones.”

A response pops up almost instantly, laced with humor: “Guilty. But I swear it was Radiohead, not Oasis. I’ll keep it down—promise a better playlist next time?” You smirk, assuming it’s some hipster neighbor, and fire back: “Only if it’s pre-2000s Radiohead. No sellout vibes.” The banter continues over days—witty, playful, a bright spot in the monotony of unpacking and Zoom calls. You don’t know their name, just their handle: Apt4B.

One evening, you leave a batch of your stress-baked cookies outside 4B’s door as a peace offering, scribbled with a note: “For the guitarist. Keep it chill.” The next morning, you find a reply taped to your door—a small Bucky Barnes Funko Pop with a Post-it: “Truce accepted. Radiohead-approved cookies deserve a collector’s item. —4B.” Your heart skips. Who is this guy?

Days later, the building organizes a socially-distanced rooftop movie night, projecting The Princess Bride against a brick wall. You spot him across the rooftop—tall, scruffy, baseball cap pulled low, but those blue eyes are unmistakable. Sebastian Stan. Your Sebastian Stan, the Winter Soldier himself, is Apt4B. He catches your gaze, grins, and raises a beer in a mock toast, mouthing, “Cookies were fire.” Your stomach flips as you realize your mystery neighbor is a celebrity—and the spark you’ve felt through notes and texts might just be real.

But as you chat under the stars, his laugh warm and his stories surprisingly down-to-earth, doubt creeps in. He’s Sebastian freaking Stan, and you’re just… you. Can this connection, born in quarantine’s weird bubble, survive the real world—especially when his next film shoot could take him halfway across the globe?