The Rockstar Next Door (h.s)

prologue

Elena

The little tiny speckle of tolerance I had for their loud music just vanished, anger taking control of the wheel instead.

"I can't take it anymore, Bea. I'm gonna go fucking nuts," I angrily mumble, placing my laptop onto the coffee table and making my way towards the door.

"What? Where are you going El?" Bea shouts behind me, but I ignore her as I make my way out of the place.

I march towards the door, only a couple feet across from ours, and angrily knock on the door. I tap my feet impatiently with my arms crossed over my chest, the sound of loud drums blocking out my knocks.

132.

Apartment Number 132.

I angrily huff, fixing my glasses before knocking on the door with a harsher force, almost banging it at this point.

The instruments and sounds pause, and shuffling is heard behind the door. There was a light murmur through the thin door, hoping they would come out and not continue playing.

The door slowly and gradually opens as if I was being taunted at this point. A tall man leaned against the doorframe, a toothpick hanging from the corner of his lips as he looked down at me, our height difference not justifying my confident approach.

He slowly but surely made sure to make it obvious that he was checking me out, biting down on his toothpick as he tilts his head at me. I couldn't look away, my eyes betraying me as none of my body parts were able to get into motion.

The closeness of his tattooed skin as he towered over me set my soul on fire, feeling intimated by the attractive facial structures and green eyes.

Ah, tattoos.

And he smells good, which is probably one of the best features anyone can have. It wasn't over-sprayed cologne or the cliché vanilla mint most guys would have, but more of a fresh and natural smell. He wasn't bulky, but he had all the necessary muscles a girl needed to check him out. He bit the toothpick on his back teeth, his lips slowly curling into a smirk as he scanned my body.

I rolled my eyes, offering a fake smile as I fluttered my eyelashes.

"I was wondering if you could turn down a bit, not trying to be a Karen here but I have a really important day tomorrow to study for." I carefully say, choosing my words wisely.

He blinked in disbelief, then lowly chuckled, "You sure you're not here for an autograph?" I look at him, puzzled. "You don't have to pretend you're here to 'lower the music', it's not the first time a girl said that to me for other reasons."

"I-What? No." I pick up on his accent, making the bastard even more attractive.

"Oh... for a picture then?" He asks, looking more puzzled than ever.

"No," I answer again with no hesitation.

He furrows his eyebrows as he takes the toothpick out of his mouth, placing it between his fingers as if it was a cigarette. His lips form into an o shape as if realization hit him, his head looking down as he chuckles to himself. He looked back up at me with a cocky smirk following.

"Oh, is it for sex?"

I froze in my spot, my jaw-dropping as I stare at him - completely baffled by the words coming out of his mouth. My heart began to race faster, simply because I was never put in a situation like this with a guy, let alone being confronted on false thoughts of wanting sex. Was this guy serious? He seems serious with the cocky smile on his face as if I'm quick to jump on his train.