Chapter Text
Not so long ago, a mysterious bassist settled on the tenth floor. Aside from the flat's owner who would come around once a month for the payment, not many of the tenants have ever seen him.
He'd come like a bolt from the blue; almost literally, to the tenants' great misfortune. Especially for Kwak Jiseok, who lived on the ninth floor. For "the great troglodyte"—as Jiseok named him—was way too loud, somehow managing to annoy everyone: loud bass lines late at night, non-stop hard rock, video game sounds... Long story short, total pandemonium. Gunil-hyung, from the eighth floor, had tried to call the police several times after his "warning-and-extremely-angry drum lines played on the steam-heat pipes", but the bassist didn't seem to get it at all.
As Jiseok investigated, the great troglodyte sometimes hibernated and didn't make any noise for a couple of days. On these rare days, Jiseok would sigh in relief and take the opportunity to study. Actually, sometimes Kwak would even worry about the neighbour, when his sleeping marathon seemed to exceed his average. But in general, Jiseok's gladness about the long-awaited silence outweighed such fears.
And when the plaster from the ceiling would fall right on top of Jiseok's head and his notes, it meant that his neighbour had come out of hibernation. Jiseok closed his eyes in exhaustion and leaned on the back of his chair, immediately regretting his noble fit of thoughtfulness. Some familiar bass lines that sounded like AC/DC leaked in from above. It seemed like the bassist woke up in a great mood, if he was playing something like this out of blue, with loudspeakers on full volume. At 2 a.m. Jiseok dragged himself to the bed and stared blankly at the ceiling. Studying wasn't going well that night, he could admit.
He should have visited the neighbour at least once, on friendly terms, but Jiseok always found a reason not to do so — from "I don't have any free time and I'm dead tired after my part-time job" to "God knows who the fuck that guy upstairs is, if even Gunil-hyung couldn't manage him; besides, bassists are large and scary, and I'm skinny and yielding." And it's not that he had any prejudice towards bassists, plus, jokes about them he found ridiculous. However, that guy from the tenth floor was indeed a whole big prejudice.
At times Kwak found himself being jealous of him: he was probably a rich guy with no worries and plenty of time. On top of that, his playing skills were great; the thin walls allowed for such a conclusion. That the bassist was male, Jiseok decided so he could allow himself to mentally beat him up before sleeping, because beating girls was very, very uncool.
If only I had a friend like him back in middle school, I would have dragged him into our band, the student thought to himself, giving Snoopy — a white, dusty electric guitar standing in the corner — a guilty glance. But all of that was long ago and far away, and now everything he wanted was to sleep, so he inhaled bravery into his lungs and, hoping for his neighbour's sympathy, yelled, "Hey! I have to work tomorrow, and my exams are next week!!!"
The ceiling proceeded to tremble. It was stupid to hold any hope that he would be heard. Jiseok collapsed on his bed with a growl, covering his head with a pillow. His eyelids got heavy, everything merged into uneven noise, but through the curtain of sleep he thought that the music at last got a little bit quieter.