Singing at 6:30 ~ Klance.

Singing at 6:30

[Keith's POV]

I had a routine.

Up at 5.

Eat breakfast.

Shower.

Dressed by 6.

Out by 6:10.

Stupid job.

Back home at 9:40

Eat.

Sleep.

But recently that routine ended when I quit my job. My boss was a dick and I couldn't stand my co-workers. Every single day of repetition. People complaining, bad coffee, boring desk job, tons of paper work; all of it was shit.

So I quit. But quitting and didn't stop me waking up at the usual time of 5 am. It was peaceful though. I'd walk into my kitchen and make myself a cup of actually bearable coffee, then I'd walk to my living room and sit on my couch, enjoying the company of my dog , Kosmo.

But there was always something at 6:30. The same voice singing stupid songs. Brittany Spears and Beyoncé were common, Disney was sometimes thrown into the mix but it was always some happy cheerful song.

I hated it.

Who on earth was that happy at 6:30? At my job I was mad or tired or just plain sad to be there, now I was unemployed I was still tired and mad. But this guy, this fucking man, was always happy. Or singing some happy song.

I sat down one morning and devised plans to block out the noise. I wrote everything down in a red pen as I listened to the nice voice accompanied by shit lyrics.

Earplugs.

That one didn't really work. You could hear the melody through the soft rubber.

Different rooms.

That one didn't work either. No matter how far I was from the guy's bathroom, singing was still in earshot.

Noise complaints.

I crossed that one out right away. I hated my landlord. Griffin? Or James. I didn't know his name and I didn't really care. I knew he was an asshole though. I had no hot water for weeks because he refused to get it fixed so I called him out. He'd be the last person I go to for help with this situation. Plus, unnecessary human contact was a big no for me.

Noise-proofing the walls.

Expensive. I just lost my job.

Asking him politely to shut the fuck up.

This made me realise I had never ever spoken to my neighbour. I'd lived here for 3 years I think? And I'd never seen anyone move in so he must've been here longer than I have. During all that time I haven't spoken to him.

He didn't throw parties. He wasn't loud when people came to his house. Our schedules were lined up so we didn't cross paths, unintentionally of course, but that was always a bonus for me.

All I knew was

1. He liked Brittney and Beyoncé.

2. He liked blue.

3. He had a blue bike and blue door and blue boots.

4. He didn't have any pets.

5. He had a subscription for some magazine that was actually pretty funny

and 6. he sung every morning at 6:30 on the dot.

Oh! And 7. that I hated him for it.

So maybe meeting a new person and his first impression of me was telling him I'd heard him singing for a week now and I wanted him to shut up, wouldn't be the best.