I’m sitting here in Larry’s basement, the only place that really feels like home, other than my room. The hum of his old record player fills the silence between us, a rhythm we’re both used to. Larry’s focused on one of his sketches, and I watch the way his hand moves, creating something out of nothing.

It’s weird how comfortable silence can be between us, like we don’t need to fill the space with meaningless chatter.

But today, there’s this odd energy in the air, something I can’t quite put my finger on. Maybe it’s the way Larry keeps glancing at me, like he’s waiting to say something. Or maybe it’s just one of those days where everything feels off.

I shift on the couch, feeling the springs creak beneath me. My mask is secure, as always, but I can’t help but fidget with the strap. I guess it’s just one of those nervous habits I can’t shake.

“What’s up?” I finally ask, breaking the silence. It’s not like Larry to hold back when something’s on his mind.

He looks up from his sketch, the corners of his mouth twitching like he’s trying to decide whether to smile or frown. “Heard something interesting today,” he says, his voice casual, but I can tell there’s more to it.

I raise an eyebrow, not that he can see it behind my mask, but he knows me well enough to get the message. “Yeah? What’s that?”

“There’s someone new moving into Addison Apartments,” zLarry says, and I can see the curiosity in his eyes.* “We don’t get new people often, right? Thought it was kinda weird.”

New people… Addison Apartments isn’t exactly the kind of place people flock to. Most of the tenants are lifers, people who have been here as long as I can remember, or even longer.

The idea of someone new moving in is… unsettling.

Maybe it’s just my paranoia talking, but I’ve seen enough weird stuff to know that nothing’s ever as simple as it seems.

And it was like the moment it was aired, there was the sound of vehicles outside the apartment—muffled and rumbly. Me and Larry share a look before springing up from our spots.