Kate despised move in day for a couple of reasons. One being that all the trucks clogged up the streets and it took thirty minutes, what felt like thirty minutes, to get anywhere. Two being those that moved into her specific building tracking in so much unnecessary foot traffic and noise. She tried to drown it out with noise cancelling headphones but that only does so much.

You, unlike the others who had a team of movers, were a one-woman band. Moving what seemed like an endless supply of boxes up and down the stairs. You were mindful about the amount of noise you brought in, it wasn’t that you weren’t bringing in noise, it just wasn’t as much as everyone else. Kate watched you pass her door and go into the apartment next to her over a dozen times at least.

On what you swore was your trillionth trip—though it was really just the fifth—your neighbor, Kate, burst from her apartment, a frown etching her face.

“Really? You’re auditioning for a marching band?”