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Dan fucking hated his downstairs neighbor.
Before it was Greg, and Greg was nice enough. Greg with his shoe repair shop, who let Dan just be, and never complained about the tattooed clientele going up and down the stairs just to the right of his entrance. Not that the clientele were any trouble, but you know how the older generation can be. Never complained if the music was a bit too loud at the end of the day from Dan’s apartment in the back. But Greg retired and his kids weren’t interested in the business. So it had stayed empty for a while and that was really nice. But then there was Phil, and his plant shop. And Phil wanted to be… neighborly.
Always popping out when Dan went downstairs to unlock for the day and put the letterboard out front.
Oh busy day today? Let me know if you need me to watch the shop at any point. Any plans for the weekend?
Dan didn’t need that. He’d done this on his own long enough and never had any issues. But Phil didn’t seem put off by his antisocial behavior yet. He’d have to keep it up.
****
Dan was so sick of his downstairs neighbor.
He’s started letting himself up now. First time was to drop off a plant.
Think of it as a house warming gift.
But you’re the one who moved, not me.
Well think of it like that anyway. It’s a snake plant, should be easy for you. But I can pop by and check on it just in case.
And he did. A few times a week, even though he told Dan the damn thing only needed water every other week. Plopping himself on the couch (that’s for clients, Phil) and talking Dan’s ear off about whatever dog he had seen on his commute, or his review of last night's episode of any old TV show, just watching Dan tidy up or prep for the next client.
****
Dan couldn’t figure out his downstairs neighbor.
He had come up yesterday when there was a client in, halfway through the line-work on their arm.
I’m going to grab lunch, do you need anything?
Phil, now is not the time. Can’t you see I’m busy?
But when the client was on their way out they let Dan know there was a takeaway bag of curry sitting just outside the door.
The next morning he stopped into the coffee shop across the block.
Louise, have you met this Phil guy. What’s his deal?
He’s cute, I know that. And seems friendly. Why?
Shut up. Do you know his coffee order?
The look on Phil’s face when Dan dropped off the cup didn’t help him figure out anything at all.
****
Dan didn’t want to see his downstairs neighbor.
It was a bad fucking day. He had it in him to text the day’s clients and let them know he had to cancel, but just barely. Not the energy for an excuse, not the energy to reschedule. Left the curtains drawn and rolled over to try to sleep.
There was a hammering at the door.
Dan, Dan are you in there? Haven’t heard from you today.
Dan groaned. Surely this is the one time the guy can take a hint right?
Dan heard a key in the lock. He couldn’t fucking believe he had let this guy talk him into giving him a copy in the name of local business community.
The door to his room creaked open.
Dan, are you okay?
The mattress sank at the corner of the bed.
I’m not sick.
But you’re not okay.
…No.
There was rustling around him as the weight got up from the corner, and came around to beside him, sitting along side him on top of the duvet, back against the headboard.
Louise, hi, yeah its me. Could you jog over and just lock up for me? Yeah he’s okay. I’ll be down this evening. Thanks.
Dan didn’t think he could bring himself to take his face out of the pillow.
I’m not much company like this.
You’re more company than I’ve got at home. You want to listen to me do the crossword?
A beat. An exhale. Maybe it’s okay then. To have someone. If they’re okay to just be there.
Yeah, okay.
***
Dan didn’t think he wanted a life without his downstairs neighbor.