NEXTDOOR → STALKER!SHAWN

[1]

Warnings: Cursing

New and old faces pass as her black boots paced along the dirty sidewalk, guiding her closer to what she called home. Cars whizzed by on a constant loop, the wind indefinitely causing her hair to fly back into her face despite her efforts to keep it away. People screamed into their phones or pushed past people or reached down to pour change into a homeless man's cup or struggled to keep their dog on a leash.

It was constantly busy, but that's what drew her to New York in the first place. Though sometimes, like right now, she needed to be alone.

Y/N sighed heavily as she came to a barred entryway almost hidden away from the rest of the world. She stuffed a hand in her beige trench coat and pushed her way inside, revealing the bright, luxurious interior of the lobby. Before she could even walk across the room to get to the elevator, Sinqua, the receptionist, made it appoint to greet her, as always.

"Lovely afternoon, isn't it, Miss Y/L/N?" He smiled, leaning back in his chair and fiddling with the leaves of the small succulent next to him.

Y/N gave him a playful eye roll as her manicured nails pressed the elevator button. "Something of the sort. You?"

"Better now." Sinqua smirked suggestively, eliciting a chuckle from the young woman's mouth.

Their game of cat and mouse had been going on for a year now, and there was no visible ending in sight.

"Goodbye, Mr.Walls." Y/N smiled, stepping inside the elevator and allowing the doors to close before he could muster another word.

When she finally arrives at her door on the third floor, she wastes no time at all jamming her keys into her door's lock and trotting inside. She slams it with a tired groan and flicks the light on, revealing her sweet humble-a-bode. The expensive penthouse was a perfect reflection of her; Plain, fancy, and expensive.

All furniture she owned was black and white, matching perfectly with the stark white walls that surrounded her. A grand T.V. was perched just above her probably-too-big fireplace. The kitchen was clean, mostly because she never cooked for herself, and the corresponding dining room was set in front of the window that took up the entire back wall, looking out onto the city. Her bedroom followed the same theme as the other rooms; Black, white, clean, and simple.

Some may consider this lifestyle boring, but for Y/N, she wouldn't have it any other way, especially when she'd worked so hard to get here in the first place.

Setting her purse down on the bar in front of the kitchen, Y/N grabs the T.V. remote and turns it on to some stupid sitcom before making her way back to the kitchen again. Opening the fridge, she found it empty save for a few wine bottles and packages of fruit. Too lazy to order food, she settled with what she had tonight.n

She grabbed a large wine glass from the cabinet above and poured herself some red– Probably too much, but she had nowhere else to go tonight. She also grabbed the pack of strawberries before running back to her couch and plopping down on her couch to begin binge-watching.

Usually she'd take her time, change out of her work clothes, and get ready for bed before commencing her lazy sequence, but tonight, she'd just have to fathom with her uncomfortable pantsuit and freed hair. Being a celebrity interviewer in the Big Apple had always been the dream, and she loved her job more than anything else, but it almost always left her feeling drained at the end of the day.

As time grew closer to midnight, Y/N felt herself finally drifting off into a peaceful sleep, the bickering of the actors on the T.V. dispersing off into nothing.

Only for her to be jarred back to life from loud noises directly across the hall at 2 A.M.

Y/N groaned loudly as she sat up, rubbing at her tired eyes. Loud bumping and unfamiliar muffled conversation made its way past her door. She scrunched her face in confusion- Only 1 other person lived on her floor, and she knew their voice very well. Springing into her curious side, she hops up from the couch and makes her way to her door, standing on her toes to see through the peep hole.