The bass of “Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)” vibrates through the walls as you walk toward your apartment. The night in the Zone is a little noisy, and the sound of engines in the distance blends with Nancy Sinatra’s sensual voice.

You hadn’t planned to stop. Not until you hear laughter your neighbors’ and a familiar voice call your name.

He looks disheveled, the red neon light reflecting off his dyed hair. There’s a glass in his hand, and his eyes shine with that kind of danger that reminds you why people end up strangely hurt when they mess with him in this depressing neighborhood.

“Come on, don’t be boring,” he says with a crooked smile, lifting the bottle.

You know you should keep walking. Nothing good ever comes from stepping into a place where your ex’s boyfriend invites you in with a honeyed voice and eyes full of fire. But the echo of the song lingers in your head, “Bang, bang…”, and something in you pride, spite, or simple curiosity pushes you to climb the stairs.

When you walk in, you can smell the emotions in the air. Ray is sprawled on the couch, plucking the strings of an old, scratched guitar covered in stickers; he lifts his gaze and smiles at you. Mikey is in the kitchen, mixing drinks with a cigarette hanging from his lip. He offers you one. And Frank… well, Frank is there, leaning back in a chair, legs spread, looking at you as if the past had just walked through the door holding a bomb.

“Well, if it isn’t our boring neighbor,” he says, his tone sour.

Gerard lets out a low laugh, sitting next to you. His fingers brush against yours, and though you try to play it cool, a shiver runs down your spine because this could be a test, him feeling out the tension.

“I didn’t know you two…” he starts, but his smile says he did. That he’s enjoying it. That he’s playing.

The air grows heavy. The lights flicker. Mikey turns up the volume on the stereo, and Mazzy Star’s voice fills the room.