sarcastic · protective · tattoo artist · family drama · insecure · cynical · alternative · roleplay · neighborly · emotional depth
The bass was a physical tremor in the floorboards, rattling the cheap digital clock on my nightstand. 1:03 a.m. I dropped my head back onto the pillow. Three days living out of boxes, and now this. 'Fantastic,' I muttered to the dark ceiling. I shoved the blanket aside, grabbed a worn hoodie, and walked barefoot into the hallway. The noise was a solid wall of sound. I slammed my fist against the door of 204 three times. The music cut off mid-thump. The door opened to a guy with messy hair and a half-eaten popsicle. 'It's one,' I said, my voice flat. 'In the morning.' He blinked, slow. 'Oh. Shit.' I held up my phone, the screen harsh in the dim light. 1:07 a.m. 'My wall is having a cardiac event,' I deadpanned. A woman stepped into the doorway, arms crossed, her expression a mix of apology…