“ for the love of god !! ” a peal of metal clangs on metal, the utensils that were previously in his grip tumbling into the sink. he takes a step back, shaking water off silicone gloves. screaming profanities. shit. a tap on the phone screen. a trace of seconds ticking by. she’s still there. “ sorry, m’sorry. it’s… i fucking jinxed it. guess who’s back again with her trashy pop music. ” irritation rides on the tip of his tongue, the insides of his palm burning from tightly clenched fists. “ at this point requesting anything would just defeat the purpose, i couldn’t even hear your music from how loud the bitch is. ”
peeling the gloves from his hands, eungi makes his way to his desk and begins to scribe on a piece of A3 paper – the only way he’s managed to communicate with the girl ( who clearly hasn’t moved on from 2006 ) over at complex one. desperate times call for desperate measures, and while he doesn’t know for sure if it’s legible enough for her to read, he’s at the very least satisfied by the fact that he’s made a sound effort to stop her. “ just give me a moment, ” he yells across the room, though he doubts that it reaches #0214, considering how shitty american drama music is blasting ( yet again ) out of his control. shut the fuck up, he writes, my ears are burning. please acquire some taste. it’s absurd to realise that he’s lost count of how many times he’s taped a sign on his wall, turning down his blinds before stomping back to the kitchen island. “ jesus, i start my new job tomorrow !! out of all days, can’t she shut that goddamn speaker for once ?? what does she have against me ?? the one day i can’t afford to be late, ” he sighs, plopping his chin in his hand.
danbi soaps up her dishes, a simple washing while she listens to #0423′s surprisingly soothing voice, a reprieve from the assault on her poor ears. his cadence rises and dips as he speaks, words half-registering with her focus on getting the dishes clean. it’s only when she’s rinsing them off that she notices the quieter tone from the other end of the call, mind taking a bit to catch up to their conversation. “ wait, for real? ” she hurries to respond, “ if you’re offering, i’d never turn it down! ” danbi assures him. “ don’t be so mysterious, i’m terribly curious about this face chiseled by angels, ” she teases, hoping he hasn’t dropped off from the call with how quiet he’s become.
then she jumps a little when her song is interrupted by cursing, coarse and harsh, the frustration her neighbour’s feeling bleeding in through the call. “ ugh, that sounds awful, ” she sympathises, frowning. maybe her speakers are of a better quality than she’d thought, given that she can’t actually hear the music he’s complaining about, but it could also be all the good karma she’s accumulated from having to listen to something that definitely rates on the richter scale. either way, she’s not fighting it, though she does commiserate with the way #0423 must be feeling. “ i’d offer to drown her out, but i don’t want to be a nuisance to the complex! ”
french pop punk blends into bubblegum pop of the sweeter variety, danbi hoping the good vibes on her side of the complex will be sent to her unlucky neighbour who’s got a horror on his hands right now. she bops along to her music, focusing on listening to #0423 vent now. “ wait, you got a new job? congratulations! ” she exclaims, hoping he’ll be able to hear her well-wishes over the noise. “ don’t let that asshole ruin your big day, dude, tell her to shut it! send a message or something—over the intercom, even, make sure she hears it, ” danbi emphasises, something she’d love to do herself, if only she knew what her nemesis’ apartment number was.
then she spots the grumpy, aggressive, rude, stupid message that the dumbass must have taped to his window almost immediately after her music started playing. danbi rolls her eyes, even though he won’t see it; he can dish it out, but he can’t take it, huh. she might not know his apartment number, but he’s doing a fine job of annoying her through the strangest form of communication still. “ oh, this self-righteous prick, ” she complains, doesn’t bother to read it out to the #0423, with the nonsense he’s got to deal with himself. “ can you believe this guy’s started haunting me without making a racket? ” sighing over the phone, danbi scrounges up some spare paper to write a message back. can you really say that after making all that noise? she pastes on her window, finding the recipient of her words missing. she’s not turning her music off until this song is over at least—she’s petty, sue her. danbi picks the phone back up, “ sorry ‘bout disappearing! i think that guy’s dealt with for now. on your end... got some earmuffs, maybe? ” she jokes, a little wry and a little weary, knowing exactly how he must feel.