𝖠𝗅𝗅 𝖳𝗈𝗈 𝖶𝖾𝗅𝗅 | 𝖢𝗁𝗈𝗂 𝖡𝖾𝗈𝗆𝗀𝗒𝗎

𝗂𝗂. 𝖥𝗈𝗋𝗀𝖾𝗍𝖿𝗎𝗅

Third Person.

26th of October.

5F, Door 32, Parkinson's Building
Cornelia Street, Eastwood Avenue
Beverly

Beomgyu had long memorized the stretch of Cornelia Street, thanks to his frequent trips around town. However, never did he bother batting an eye to Parkinson's old apartment building sandwiched between a wide fastfood chain and a 3-storey library.

The address in which he held crisply in his hands led him to the latter. The run-down establishment seemed to have been built in almost a century ago. Its once white-painted walls have gone chipped and faded. Windowsills ate dust, dimming any source of light trying to seep through. Protruding pipes had rotten into rust, its dirty brown hue vibrant amidst the pale overalls. Cramped, it served home to locals regardless, one of which happened to be Y/N and her grandmother.

"Oh, boy." Beomgyu sighed, walking in. "This place had sure seen better days."

No security greeted him as he entered. The lounge was empty, aside from that one small LUNCH BREAK sign propped on the counter. Staffless, Beomgyu wandered through the carpeted hall. Two corridors extended on either side, offering an array of doors leading to the laundromat, post lockers, and an empty pantry. Beomgyu scanned his paper. He was supposed to go to the fifth floor.

Ting!

The elevator opened with an annoying squeak. Beomgyu could smell the foul stench of urine. Obscure graffiti and fading numbers from the button fed his vision. Displeased, he quickly pressed 5 and waited for the lift to move. As it did, it gave a dysfunctional shake and the light bulb above him flickered. He facepalmed.

"Thank God I have a decent job." He mumbled. "There's no need for me to waste a penny over some low-budget residence."

Ting!

Beomgyu was more than grateful to be able to step out of the horrible ride. He faced a seemingly endless hallway. The outside world peeked from a window at the far back. It glowed dimly, considering that it was a cloudy day. The soles of Beomgyu's shoes tapped against the carpet as he marched. His eyes preyed upon the bronze numbers screwed on every door. He mentally counted.

28..

29..

30..

31..

"Aha." He stopped by door 32. "There you are."

Beomgyu knocked thrice. His knuckles hit the mahogany pretty hard as it echoed across the corridor. He could hear a faint laugh track from a random show nextdoor. A dog barked somewhere. He crossed his arms, trying to prolong his patience. A minute flew by and there was no response, so he knocked again.

Silence.

"Hello?" He called. "Y/N? Ma'am?"

He pressed the doorbell button but to no avail. It didn't make a sound. Puffing his cheeks, Beomgyu bargained with himself. One more and he'll leave.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

At last, he heard a muffled voice yell "wait". There was a frantic shuffle. The door finally opened, revealing Y/N whose mouth busily chewed on biscuits.