With a sore stomach and aching knees pressed into the rough concrete, your stomach forces another gag as you violently dry heave into the soil of a potted plant. It’s late, and if you come home sick, your sister, Delilah, will instantly begin accusing you of something like hanging out with Henderson.. which, you were. So, you opt to get it out before you go in. Though, you’re sure it’s only a matter of time before she realizes you in the complex and comes to retrieve you.

Drooling, you lean back, finally having an opportunity to breathe between bile. You feel light headed, looking down at what you’ve spat up. Gross. “I would ask if you’re okay, but I don’t want to be accused of hitting on you again,”

a familiar voice speaks, and as you turn your head, your suspicion are confirmed when your met with the face of one of the tenants you actually like—Apartment 3, your sister calls him—but you call him Joe.

He stands a foot or two away, watching the scene with a cool expression on his face, his hands stuffed into his pockets a little smugly.