Page 13 of Boyfriend From Hell
I didn’t want to call the landlord and say anything, for fear they would just take it as a noise complaint or something and then I would be pegged as the noise police. No thanks. That wasn’t the impression I wanted to give. I already felt like I started off on the wrong foot with him last night and didn’t want to make it worse with a complaint.
Between the muffled shouts and sounds, it was hard to not wonder if everything was okay in there. From the creak of the floorboards, someone above me was moving down their own hallway—I assumed. Maybe they would call it in, and then I wouldn’t have to worry about it or be known as the bitchy, nosy, whining neighbor.
I moved slowly, my bones begging me to crawl back to my apartment.
Making it to his door—against my better judgment and with zero shame—I stretched onto my tiptoes and peered through the peep hole.
Creep of the year.
I held my breath as I pressed into the door, praying no one would walk out of their apartment to find me in full blown weirdo-mode. I was met with complete darkness, which, in hindsight made sense—after all someone looking in from the outsideshouldn’tbe able to see into someone’s home.
My calves burned, and I respected their cries, lowering my heels back to the floor.
“Stupid,” I muttered to myself.
“Did you go back to your apartment?”
“No,”I said quietly.
This was so strange, it didn’t make sense.
What was I even seeing? Obviously,nothing,which made sense to me. But something didn’t feel right.
I was fairly positive the fighting sounded like it was coming from his apartment, but then again...I was very hungover. Leave it to me to take the first attention a guy paid me after the breakup and turn it into a full-blown crisis.
He probably had a bad hangover too and was sleeping, someone else in the building must be fighting or something.
I should just call the landlord and let them know about the shouting. It wasn’t my place to play police officer or building manager.
“Ugh, okay. Shit—” It sounded like Gracie dropped her phone.
“Ugh, Deer, you should really go back to your apartment. You hardly know the guy. Who cares if he’s got whatever drama going on across the hall?” Gracie said, her voice distant and clearly bored. Static briefly overtook the receiver.
“Are you still there?”
“Yes,” I groaned. My stomach still felt tight with worry. For some reason I had a nagging feeling that something was wrong behind his door.
“I think I’m going to see if he’s okay.”
“Ugh, Deer—” Gracie began
“Oh, hush. I’m sure it’s nothing, I’m just going to check on him, then I’ll get ready, and you can come over. Okay?”
“Keep me on the line in case you walk into a shit show—I want to hear the drama. Oh! And let’s go to that new diner that opened up!” She paused. “Actually, FaceTime me! You know how much I love other people’s drama!”
“Shut up, I’m not going to FaceTime you!”
Gracie whined on the other line.
I couldn’t believe what I was doing. Since when did I care about someone—some complete stranger? Not that I didn’t care before, but I’d been so wrapped up in my own misery that I barely noticed anything around me. A one-night-sleepover-stand… was that even a thing?
Stepping back, I took a slow breath in and let it out, hoping to calm the annoying jumble of emotions swirling inside me.
Another crash reverberated through the building and I gasped; this time it was very obvious it had come from inside his apartment. Another thud rang out—this time, it sounded like something heavy had been thrown against the door. I didn’t wait. I turned and ran back to my apartment.
Out of breath, my brain feeling like it was caught between two crashing cymbals, I glanced around my kitchen. Thankfully, the open concept made grabbing a knife swift and easy. Better safe than sorry, I didn’t know what I was going to be confronted with but I’d be damned if I was caught empty handed. I may be hungover beyond all belief (or naive) but who knows what’s going on over there?!
I clutched the handle of the blade so hard my fingernails bit into the flesh of my palm. With my wine fogged brain and best friends annoying comments for fuel, I made my way back over to his apartment.
