night and day [h.s]

five

When no one looked, Harry snuck in an ear bud or two. Subway rides got long and he got restless, he'd sneak out his old iPod and listen. Maybe Cage the Elephant. Always Vance Joy. Sometimes Young the Giants. He enjoyed his music in his own little world and when he listened, he was definitely swept away by the waves carrying him to a better place like out to the far sea or some deserted island. But this music was nothing in comparison's to neighbor 202's, and he realized how outdated his was.

He yanked the cord out of his ear, irritation washing over him and he stuffed everything back in his pocket. His music seemed like waves measures to the tsunami that was 202 sent through his door every night.

He wanted a name or a face at least, something to place the music to. He couldn't keep imagining his pink neighbor; he wanted to see her. Feel her. Talk to her. Appreciation for beautiful music often came from beautiful soul. And neighbor 202 couldn't be anything but beautiful.

He remained dead on his two feet, smile carved in his face throughout work until he saw his apartment building come into view again. He collapsed face first into the Jack Daniels and weed aroma couch, hoping to get a wink of sleep before 2 AM came around. But 20 minutes later and not one shuteye, a knock came at his door. Disoriented and confused, he shuffled to the door.

No one knocked on his door, ever. Not James, not Uriel, not the landlord. Only his sister when she came for a surprise visit once. But that was a year ago and he hasn't heard from her since then. He doubted she'd be back in the slums of New York. Last he heard from his mom she was traveling Canada with her boyfriend, hitching rides with strangers and living off of the lands. Stupid idea if you asked him.

The door opened to James actually. James's face was busted up, red running down his bruising nose and purple coming to surface around his eye. James always dressed head to toe in all black and for a year Harry was convinced he had scarred skin he was ashamed about underneath all the layers he always wore. But his clothes were tattered to reveal skin that has never been touched by the sun underneath. He was breathing hard and he looked half conscious, but had the strength to push Harry aside.

"What do you want man? Acid? Ecstasy? Weed? You name it."

"I'm good," Harry said. He took a step back wary of the drug dealer in his apartment pushing his way through. His thoughts drifted to one of the few knives in the second cabinet that were clean. He could use that if things got ugly.

James held onto the doorknob for a supposedly coat closet, all it held were things forgotten about.

"I need the money. Just name anything, you were talking about acid the other day, you want?" James took in a raggedy breath; his eyes haven't even made their way up to Harry's face yet. The knives were forgotten; he was just as scared as Harry felt right now, if not even more.

"Um." Acid. He knew that'd be a deep dent in the little paycheck he already got. He had rent to pay next month but he was sure the landlord could wait a week or so until he'd get it. But more debts to pay for just a tab? "How much?"

"As many tabs I can get you. I just need $500, tonight."

Fucking $500 dollars? That was halfway to a thousand. He was in deep shit and about to make Harry step into deep shit by digging into saved money just to get a couple tabs.

"Nah man, I'm good."
"Harry, please." James made eye contact the first time that evening. His brown eyes watering up and the tough dealer act was dropped for the first time ever. "I need it, man. Please."

"What for?"

"Ah, I got in some deep shit with some people." James inhaled. "They're going to kill my girl. Harry, I –" He pressed his fist into the door. "I really need it."

James eyes were not dead, they were in fact the closest to alive he's ever seen them. Tears were going to spill over if James hadn't tilted his head upward to stop himself from showing a little emotion. Harry could have sworn he left his sympathy at home, thousands of miles away. He hadn't felt a damn thing except the pit of loneliness and heart aching guilt this entire time. Now compassion wanted to join the party?

"I'll try and get something..."

James breathed out a sigh from his bleeding lips, "Oh thank you. Thank you."

"I want two tabs."

"Two? For $800?"

"And $700 back."

James nodded. Harry didn't hug him or offer him any more sympathy than digging into the safe in his bedroom and handing over the saved up cash. James didn't hug him or offer him any more thanks than he had vocalizing it. But he was grateful, Harry could see it in James's eyes and in his tone. It was uncharacteristic emotion emitting from James. But Harry didn't have to experience much more of it because James left as soon as thanks was given and $800 in his hand.

The couch invited him back to sleep but he couldn't. Too much buzzed about his mind for him to shut down so he stayed up for awhile. Like a mindless zombie, he stared at the TV until he passed out in an unfamiliar episode of some show. It was barely 12 in the morning when he awoke to not music, but banging. At first he thought it was banging in the song. It sounded like it could be the beginning of a good angry song and he wondered what made neighbor 202 so furious the other day when the banging stopped. It wasn't a song. It was the neighbor.

"Open the fucking door!" Uriel.

yes, cliffhanger i'm guessing

please vote and comment and quick question for anyone reading, who do you think neighbor 202 is?

and happy birthday to my love 💕