Neighbors (S. R.)

April

Friday, April 9

Day 24

Apartment complexes and hotels have one thing in common: rooms next to each other are usually mirror images of the other. Using that logic, you knew that Spencer's bedroom was on the other side of your own bedroom wall. Which wasn't a problem, he was a very quiet person. Sometimes you forgot that he even lived there at all, as if he wasn't home half the time. He was home tonight, though. You hadn't heard much of him before, just random days here and there.

You were just lying in bed, scrolling on your phone while waiting to get tired so that you could sleep. At first, you had thought he was watching tv. True crime shows are all the rage right now, and horror movies are gaining more popularity. Except you couldn't think of what he would be watching where a girl would be screaming for that long. It wasn't until you heard her scream his name that you realized what was actually going on.

You felt a flush settle over your face, unsure of what you were supposed to do. You couldn't exactly knock on his door and ask him to stop. He probably wouldn't hear you anyways. The walls were thick here, so the fact that you could hear her from your own bed meant that she was absolutely yelling. It was just loud enough that putting a blanket or pillow over your head wouldn't stop you from hearing her anyways.

You were frozen, trying to think of the right way to handle the situation. You could hear his voice, low and commanding, but you couldn't make out what he was saying over the girl's shrill voice. Your ears strained, trying to decipher his words before realizing that this was probably an invasion of privacy. Although to be honest, if he was broadcasting this to all of the apartment complex, he didn't really seem to care about discretion. Which was strange, seeing as you had assumed him to be a private person.

You decided to throw your covers off and migrate to your living room couch. The sound was more manageable there, but not quite enough for you to be able to sleep. You turned the tv on to some random boring documentary and turned the volume up so that any other noise was drowned out.

It took you longer than you thought it would to fall asleep.

-

Day 25

You were trudging up the stairs the next morning, a large coffee in your hand. It was Saturday morning, sure, but you still had stuff that you had to do, and being sleep-deprived didn't help at all. You were mid-yawn with your eyes closed when you heard someone call your name.

Spencer.

There he was, making his way down the stairs with a spring in his step. Considering the night before, you would have thought he would be exhausted. But no, he was greeting you with a smile, more energetic than usual.

"Good morning!" he exclaimed.

"Good morning," you replied, fighting back another yawn. You weren't a morning person anyways, so not sleeping much the night before hadn't done you any favors.

"Any plans for the day?" he asked.

"No, not-" you yawned before continuing your sentence, "not really. Just some shopping, housekeeping. You?"

"I'm heading to DC for the day. I'm checking out the new exhibit in the National Gallery of Art. They have some interesting new pieces from the Dadaist movement that I want to take a look at."

"The... the what?"

"Dadaism. It was a movement formed between the world wars. It was a response to the rise of capitalism and the complacent aesthetics in art, poetry, music, stuff like that. It was popular in Europe for quite some time, mostly in France and Germany. Absolutely fascinating, considering a lot of it is lost in time and overlooked. It was what inspired the Situationist movement later in the rest of Europe and the US, which in turn inspired the form of nihilism that we see today."