Work Text:
THUNK
With every slam against his wall, Dongho winces. Each one seemed even more irritating than the one before. Eventually, the tension in the back of his neck builds up enough for him to decide he’s had enough. Dongho balls his hands into fists and slams one down on his keyboard ( also apologizing to it not long after). He stands up from his seat, accidentally knocking over an empty water bottle and dropping a hoodie draped over the back of his chair.
Sighing heavily, he picks up the two fallen items and tossed them onto his empty bed. He’s had enough today. Every little thing seemed to be after his ass.
THUNK
‘Shit, again?’ He’s astounded. For the past five minutes, the guy in 405 has been creating non-stop noise, right up against the wall connecting to 406, Dongho’s apartment. Was he throwing things against it? Or repeatedly ramming his head into the wall, perhaps out of some sort of stir-crazy, hikikomori style insanity he's developed? The least he could do is run into the window wall facing the edge of the building, maybe he’d accidentally break it, fall out, and Dongho could have a chance at ending up on the news. Would that be a good thing? Eh, probably not.
He leaves his apartment, locking door 406 and moving slowly over to 405, tightly clutching his key in one hand, just in case his paranoia was rational for once and there was actually a nutcase living next to him. Actually, now that he’s said that, does he really want to go over and knock on the guy’s door?
Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, depending on how you see it, he encounters an open door. Half-opened door 405. Now that’s something to be worried about. Who the fuck leaves their door half open like this, especially in an apartment building like theirs? It’s sad to admit, but Jangseo-gu isn’t exactly the safest place in the country. What he gets for cutting off his parent’s and their financial support. It’s better than having to run a trillion won company for a living. Fuck that, man.
Dongho peeks into the room. There’s a guy in there, throwing stuff around, dropping trophies, stepping over broken photo frames, and the like.
“Fuck you! Fucking—piece of shit!” He kicks the wall, again rattling his bookshelves filled with what looked to be LP records, “Always thinking you’re better than me! Fuck you, Minsung! Fuck….” He sinks down to the ground, rubbing his face with shaking hands.
Yup, that’s a crackhead. Does Dongho care? He should, normally people like this frighten him because they can’t be reasoned with. Does this change his approach to talking to this person? Nope.
“Hey!”
The nut job in question turns, a wild, feral look in his eye and wind blown hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. Huh. He’s kind of normal looking, actually.
“Oh shit—” The man runs to the front door, tripping over his mess of clothes, “I’m sorry, did I bother you?”
‘Well no shit!’, Dongho wants to say. But he doesn’t. You know why? He doesn’t know either. Perhaps it’s because he saw him, and noticed that he wasn’t a complete meathead that rages on the daily. Maybe because he figured that he was having a moment, only causing such a racket out of fit of rage, a paroxysm that overtakes his rational mind. It happens to the best of us. After all, he was pretty polite when he noticed Dongho standing there at the door, waiting.
Dongho sighs. “Who’re you yelling about, anyway?” He grumbles, tiredly running a hand through his hair.
“Huh? Oh, uh….It’s just my brother.”
Ah, that’s fair enough. Dongho never had an older sibling before, but he has experienced the unimaginable fury of being somebody’s shadow, never good enough, never outstanding. It’s painful. Fills you with such a drive to be better that you forget to appreciate what you’ve already done.
“Ugh...Ok, I understand you, but you can’t just be doing this at this time of the night. There are some people that are trying to focus, like me.”
“Sorry...But you know, you keep me awake too, with your piano playing. That’s you, right? It’s so loud sometimes.”
So that’s what Dongho gets for being merciful? He could have come over here and chewed this guy out, but he didn’t. And now he’s getting attacked?
“That’s different, It’s music and I’m doing work. I’m sorry that it bothers you, but I can’t just stop doing it—”
“Ah—ah, no, it’s the same thing. You’re making noise and it bothers me.”
Dongho goes silent. Shit, he’s right. But Dongho can’t just stop, he’s got a job that depends on this work. He can’t move away, and the headphone jack doesn’t work on his keyboard.
“Look, we can make a compromise,” The shorter, silver-haired male states, “You don’t say anything about my mess, and I won’t complain about your piano music. I really don’t mind it myself, it’s really good, I’m just proving a point. Uhm—” He extends his hand, “My name’s Minsoo. What’s yours?”
Should he agree to this? Honestly, ignoring him would only open up problems that he didn’t need, but Dongho’s pride wouldn’t let up that easily. Then again, he can’t just go around making enemies over stupid shit like this. Who knows, maybe this so-called Minsoo has good connections. He might be able to get Dongho ahead in the game.
Or he might prove to be a good friend. Either one.
“I’m Dongho.” He mutters, meeting the shorter male halfway and shaking hands before leaving each other for the night.
He walks back into his room and sits on his bed. Should he continue practicing?
‘Nah, that’d be awkward. I just talked to that guy about this issue.’
My, how much he overthinks. Dongho tosses the rest of his cold mint tea and freshens up for bed. As he settles underneath his covers, struggling to undo the twist in his shirt from rolling over, his neighbor’s sweaty and emotional face comes back to mind.
‘What a weirdo,’ He smiles, closing his eyes and letting the weight of sleepiness take him down, ‘But I guess he’s kind of cool.’