Neighbors(.)

Chapter 4

Vincent had fallen asleep on the couch. He was just about ready for someone to come smashing through his door and crown him the King of Laziness. He felt kind of bad about not helping to move boxes... but eh, he did help. He said where things needed to go, and Scott took them there. He was quite kind.

He got up, looking around, stretching. His broken things still laid in a pile on the floor, so he swept them away. Good. Now, instead of being a pile on the floor, they were a pile in the corner. He walked into his bedroom and picked up his record player, setting it on the bedside table, causing the frail wooden legs of it to whine.

He looked around for the records, finally pulling one that wasn't broken from a box. It was relatively old, probably one of the first he ever got, when he was just getting out of high school. Demon Days. He put it on the record player and watched it spin as music drifted from the record player's small speaker.

Just past the thin wall, he knew, lived Scott. Scott was nice. A little gullible, but nice. He wondered if they had the same music taste. He hoped so... he did like the man.

A few sharp knocks on the door answered his question, and he leapt over to answer it, throwing it open with gusto. "Neighbor! What a surprise!"

"Uh..." Scott's eyes shifted downwards, and Vincent only then realized that he was wearing the exact same toast pajamas as yesterday. He knew he should've changed into his other pair of toast pajamas. "... yeah. I heard your record and, um, that reminded me... I forgot to ask you if I could see some of your records. You know, I used to have a record player in college..."

"Oh? Well, come in, my dear Scotty." Vincent couldn't help it, he flirted with everyone.

"I-It's... just Scott." He cleared his throat and and stepped inside, walking towards the music. The beat was slow and mellow, the words were... well, he actually couldn't hear them. But they were probably saying something important. It was weird, it was choppy, the singer mumbled... but it was... nice. Yeah, nice.

Vincent was nice too. If he could've chosen any neighbor, like some sort of character selection screen, that neighbor would probably look something like Vincent. He kept... no, he didn't keep quiet, but Scott was sure he would eventually. And he seemed like he was kind. He seemed like the kind of guy that would make his neighbors cookies or something. Or brownies. Hopefully normal brownies.

He sat on the edge of Vincent's bed, looking at the record player. Vincent curled up next to him.

"Sorry for the thin walls, neighbor."

"Hm? O-oh, it's fine... I don't mind your music much. Just, don't bring anyone over, alright?"

"I can't make any promises."