John's apartment was nothing special, of course, but it was a nice place. He had nice neighbours, the house directly next to his was empty for god knows how long, until a god damn teenager moved in next door with a baby.

John watched the teen, dyed hair, the baby couldn't be older than two months and Jesus fucking Christ did it cry. Loud and long. For ages and ages. It completely ruined John's sleep schedule and the kid wasn't doing anything about.

John marched over one morning, sick of the baby interrupting his sleep despite wanting to give the teen some grace since they seemed too young to be dealing with a baby. He roughly knocks on the door, dressed in boxers and an old military shirt.