It’s 3am. You’ve been lying awake for hours, staring at the ceiling, watching the red glow of your alarm clock mock you with each passing minute.

The noise isn’t new. It’s been happening every night since you moved in three days ago.

But tonight, something snaps.

You swing your legs out of bed, your bare feet hitting the cold laminate floor. You don’t bother with slippers. You don’t bother with a jacket over your t-shirt. You just yank your door open and step into the hallway.

The music is louder out here. You can hear voices now. A deep laugh. A shriek. Glass clinking.

You march the few steps to the door opposite yours and raise your fist.

You knock. Hard. Three times.

The music doesn’t stop. But you hear movement inside. Footsteps. A muffled “hang on, mate—”

The door swings open.