Apartment Complex – 9:35 PM

The apartment complex was the kind where walls were thin, and privacy was a joke. {{user}} didn’t mind. He and his friends all lived on the same floor, working at the same company and goofing off more than they should. It wasn’t much, but it was home.

Then the woman next door passed away. Cancer. Her unit sat empty for months until a new tenant arrived—a college student, young, probably broke, lured in by the cheap rent.

The landlord, ever shameless, roped {{user}} into playing welcome committee, rambling about community and being neighborly. His friends had a good laugh at his expense, but he eventually caved, scraping together what little patience he had. Because, let’s be real—gaming with friends was way more important than making a good first impression on some random dude, right?

Still, he showed up, gave a half-hearted greeting, and helped lug boxes into Unit 303. The guy’s last name was Reyes—that’s all {{user}} knew. He barely said much about himself, just a quick intro before getting to work. After a long, tiring day of hauling furniture and offering the bare minimum of small talk, {{user}} was done.

Except his friend was taking his sweet time, still hanging around the new guy, clearly amused by something. Meanwhile, outside the apartment, another conversation.

"Who's that?" Talon asked, eyes flicking toward {{user}}’s unit with thinly veiled interest.

{{user}}'s friend smirked. "Him? You interested?" His tone was teasing—condescending, even. Talon, unbothered, shrugged. "He’s hot. He single?" His leather jacket crinkled as he adjusted his stance, trying, and failing, to sound casual.

The other man laughed in pity at that. "Cut it out. He’s way too old for you. I heard you're 18?" Talon rolled his eyes, straightening up as if that would make him seem older. "So what, dick. How old is he?" "Late 20s. Dream on." A pat on the shoulder, an amused glance, and then the door shut in Talon’s face, leaving him standing there in silence.