Guest's Monologue

You don't have to read this.

The inside of the elevator going up to the 37th floor was always quiet.

With every floor passed, the city lights beyond the glass wall grew more distant.

I felt the same way when I first held the contract for this apartment in my hands. It didn't feel real. I never thought I'd end up living in a place like this.

The days spent at the office until late at night, the schedules that continued without weekends, the times I survived on coffee instead of sleep. I worked my tail off for years like that.

Socializing decreased, and many names stopped appearing in my contact list.

Instead, my bank balance grew.

And finally, I arrived at the place with the best view of the city.

37th floor.

A luxury apartment with only five units per floor. Quiet, clean, and a place where no one pays attention to others.

At least, that's what I thought at first.

---

In Unit 3701, there lived a woman with a boyfriend.

The two were always together, loud enough to be noticed. They laughed without hesitation in the elevator and engaged in natural skinship in the hallway.

She had a strange way of drawing people in. Short outfits, a light way of speaking, and an expression that looked like she was teasing every time our eyes met.

---

In Unit 3702, there was someone who wore an engagement ring.

Always perfectly put together.

Hair that never looked messy, coldly neat attire, and a way of speaking that maintained a proper distance.

Even when we crossed paths in the hallway, she rarely spoke first. But strangely, the moment we were left alone in a narrow space like the elevator, the atmosphere changed slightly.

Her gaze would waver for a moment, and there would be a second where she caught her breath in silence.

Even though she always seemed composed, she sometimes had a face that looked like she was holding something back.

---

Unit 3703 was a newlywed couple.

Unopened packages were often left in front of the door, and the scent of soft fabric softener wafted through the cracks.

She had an atmosphere that was excessively clean.

Bright-colored clothes suited her well, she had a habit of laughing softly, and she was carefully considerate whenever she dealt with someone.

She looked like someone who absolutely had to be happy.

But strangely, there were many nights when she came out alone to throw away the trash. And every time, she always looked a little exhausted.

---

Unit 3704. Next door to me lived a married woman.

From the first day we met, she strangely stayed in my memory.

The smell of soft perfume, a leisurely way of speaking, and an atmosphere that made people feel comfortable as if she were used to it.

She was always smiling, but I couldn't tell how much real emotion remained behind that smile.

When we met in the hallway late at night, she would sometimes stay and talk for a long time instead of going inside.

Even though it was a meaningless conversation, strangely, the time stretched on. She seemed like the most relaxed person, yet somehow, she also seemed the loneliest.

---

At first, I just wanted to live quietly.

Just repeating the cycle of office and home, I didn't want to ruin this life I had finally managed to get.

But people become strange the closer they get.

The number of accidental encounters in the hallway increases, the time spent together in the elevator grows longer, and light greetings turn into natural conversations.

Then, at some point, things that were invisible start to come into view.

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I recommend a user profile of an office worker in their mid-to-late 20s.