Dirty Laundry (joshler || book 1)) (COMPLETED)

Walls

cw: abuse, arguing, talk of k*lling oneself

The walls are thin. A little too thin for some people's comfort. And sanity. Being so late, Tyler thought the yelling would have at least calmed down, but it's only gotten worse over the last hour. Glass shattering and a few thumps against the wall, the man wouldn't be surprised if whatever was thrown wound up in his living room.

Tyler hoped his first night in the building would be welcoming. Or at least quiet. His anxiety is already bad enough. Meeting his new neighbors is not at the top of his To Do list. He knows it's only a matter of time, though, before he runs into a new face or two.

Ashing his cigarette, his leg bounces in anticipation of the next crash in the apartment beside his. He doesn't know anything about the couple other than they like to argue. He can tell it's a man and a woman, but what the hell are they fighting about? Are they married? How old are they? Who is Michael? Why is the woman a bitch? What did she do?

Tyler has turned it into a game of trying to figure out the answers with information given to him unknowingly. Without a TV, there's not much to keep him entertained. Being on the balcony didn't help anything as the sliding glass door is just as thin as the walls. But the fresh air of the polluted city is still more refreshing than being couped up inside.

He jumps slightly as the neighboring balcony is suddenly filled with a new presence, the door being forcibly shut behind him. Tyler glances over to see a man lean over the railing, eyes focused on the bustling city street below them. He watches him silently, not knowing if he is invisible or if the man just doesn't care that there is another person around. Taking another drag, he finally gets an answer to one of his questions when his neighbor looks over at him in surprise.

Tyler blows out smoke, their eyes connecting for a moment before he stands up from his chair and walks closer to the railing, his arm outstretched toward the stranger. He looks at it for a split second before stepping forward and accepting the half smoked cigarette with a thankful nod.

Taking a new cigarette from his pack he flicks his lighter as the glass door opens again. He glances back over when a redheaded woman peeks her head out.

"I'm goin' to bed, are you comin'?" she questions, her thick Brooklyn accent on full display.

The man shakes his head, his eyes trained on the various buildings out in front of him, "Call Michael. I'm sure he'd love to come back over."

The girl scoffs, her arms crossing over her chest, "You're seriously hangin' that over my head?"

Tyler glances down slightly upon noticing the woman's slightly round belly. Sitting back down, he looks down at his lap in silence, bringing his cigarette to his lips.

The man laughs, "I'm not hanging anything over your head. Just giving you options."

"Whatever. While you're out there, fuckin' jump for me, will ya?"

The door slams shut once again, leaving the two men in silence. Tyler side eyes the man, taking in his appearance. Dark curly hair, muscular build, tattoos and a couple of piercings. His white tank top has a few holes from past cigarette burns and his jeans are faded and worn with D.I.Y holes in the knees.

Tyler sighs when the boy looks down again, "Don't."

The man's head snaps back to him, "What?"

"Don't jump."

He looks back down, "Why?"

"It seems like you have a baby on the way."

"It's not mine," he scoffs.