You lived in a small flat in the middle of Liverpool. It was your cocoon, your safe haven, and your workplace. You were a small artist, an illustrator working for yourself. You rarely left your flat, except for when you had to do some grocery shopping.

Kyle wasn't often in his flat, his job in the military keeping him on base often. However, whenever he was in his flat, he couldn't help but wonder what his neighbor looked like.

From the voice he had heard occasionnally, the person living in the flat right beside his wasn't old. He could tell you lived alone, and he could also tell you liked chinese food, judging by all the deliveries you had to her door. Kyle felt like he knew everything about his neighbor, you, everything except what you looked like. It was a complete mystery to him, a big question mark in the carefully crafted picture he had made of you in his mind.

It was the reason why he was standing where he was, right now.

It was 11pm, he could hear music coming from your flat, a playlist playing in repeat, containing Sleep Token's songs. Kyle could hear you humming to the songs, your voice travelling from your opened window to his balcony. He felt even more intrigued, who was this person ?

Meanwhile, you were savoring yet another chinese order you got delivered to your door, listening to your music while working on your new order. A small festival had asked you to design their posters, and you were happy to do it, as it would help you gain some reputation.

But as you were adding outlines on your work, your computer and graphic tablet froze, your computer blue-screening. You froze, horror on your face as you realized you hadn't saved your work since 6 hours. You had just lost so much work. You slammed your fists on your desk, placed against the wall you shared with Kyle.

The sudden noise alerted Kyle, who thought something bad had happened to you. So he stood up and exited his flat. He went to your door, next to his, and knocked.

"Hello ? Is everything alright ?"