Your past, it comes for you.
WHO: Søren and Sindre
WHEN: 17:30, Saturday June 12th.
WHERE: Charleston Apartments
WHAT: Sindre finds Søren in his apartment buildings. Things degenerate.
Sindre barely managed to keep himself from slamming the door as he stormed out of the apartment. He had never met the person above him, but sometime within the past few months either someone new had moved in or the resident had completely forgotten how to act like a human being. Said person started playing music loud enough for Sindre to know that he or she had poor taste and no normal sleep patterns. He would often get woken up in the wee hours of the morning by the warbling of some pop singer. Or, worse, waking in a panic from the sound of the person's video game gunfire. The upstairs resident apparently rearranged furniture at least once a week, judging from the thuds and scraping noises that filtered down. The worst part of all, however, was that apparently the vents in Sindre's bedroom somehow connected to the vents in this person's bedroom. Far too often Sindre's attempts to sleep were serenaded by the squeaks of springs and the moans of partners, both male and female. Luckily, it didn't seem as if Valdi suffered from this last problem, but that bit of good fortune didn't stop Sindre to be irritated at the need to sleep with headphones.
This, though, was the last straw. He truly did not want to know what this person was doing to cause the near-ceaseless thumps and bangs. He did not care to know how his upstairs neighbor was causing Sindre's things to shake where they lay. He just wanted it to stop.
He was going to give this person one chance before talking to the super, he decided, taking the stairs two at a time. Oh, he'd still see what could be done about the vent issue; this person could do whatever he or she wanted to overnight visitors so long as Sindre couldn't hear it. But he didn't want to bring in anyone else without at least trying to resolve the issue.
Reaching the apartment of the offender, Sindre took a calming breath. He didn't want to act as pissed as he was; that would be the least beneficial way to start the discussion. Once he was sure he had his rage reasonably suppressed, he lifted his hand and rapped sharply on the door.
WHEN: 17:30, Saturday June 12th.
WHERE: Charleston Apartments
WHAT: Sindre finds Søren in his apartment buildings. Things degenerate.
Sindre barely managed to keep himself from slamming the door as he stormed out of the apartment. He had never met the person above him, but sometime within the past few months either someone new had moved in or the resident had completely forgotten how to act like a human being. Said person started playing music loud enough for Sindre to know that he or she had poor taste and no normal sleep patterns. He would often get woken up in the wee hours of the morning by the warbling of some pop singer. Or, worse, waking in a panic from the sound of the person's video game gunfire. The upstairs resident apparently rearranged furniture at least once a week, judging from the thuds and scraping noises that filtered down. The worst part of all, however, was that apparently the vents in Sindre's bedroom somehow connected to the vents in this person's bedroom. Far too often Sindre's attempts to sleep were serenaded by the squeaks of springs and the moans of partners, both male and female. Luckily, it didn't seem as if Valdi suffered from this last problem, but that bit of good fortune didn't stop Sindre to be irritated at the need to sleep with headphones.
This, though, was the last straw. He truly did not want to know what this person was doing to cause the near-ceaseless thumps and bangs. He did not care to know how his upstairs neighbor was causing Sindre's things to shake where they lay. He just wanted it to stop.
He was going to give this person one chance before talking to the super, he decided, taking the stairs two at a time. Oh, he'd still see what could be done about the vent issue; this person could do whatever he or she wanted to overnight visitors so long as Sindre couldn't hear it. But he didn't want to bring in anyone else without at least trying to resolve the issue.
Reaching the apartment of the offender, Sindre took a calming breath. He didn't want to act as pissed as he was; that would be the least beneficial way to start the discussion. Once he was sure he had his rage reasonably suppressed, he lifted his hand and rapped sharply on the door.