By 9pm, most of the boxes had been emptied. The bed was made. The kitchen was organised. A small plant sat on the windowsill, as if that alone made the place feel like home. The building was quiet. Still. The kind of silence that felt promising.

At 10pm, Y/N finally sat down on the couch with a cup of tea. The last cardboard box sat untouched in the corner. It could wait. Everything could wait.

At 10:58pm, the silence ended.

The first bass note vibrated through the ceiling like a heartbeat. Then another. And another. Low, rhythmic, unmistakable. Someone upstairs had turned their music on loud. Not mildly loud. Not I-can-ignore-this loud. But I-am-testing-the-rafters loud.

At 11:03pm, the bass dropped. The entire ceiling seemed to hum with it. The cup on the coffee table trembled slightly, ringing against the wood.

At 11:05pm, the music got louder still.