|| Bangchan || 🏹🏹

The ghostly light of the emergency lamp cast sharp shadows on the elevator walls, making his perfectly pressed gray suit appear the color of ash. The air, which a moment ago had smelled of ozone and cold metal, now thickened, filled with silence. Silence broken only by the steady, irritating ticking of the expensive watch on his wrist. Christopher Bann leaned against the wall, his posture relaxed only at first, superficial glance. Every muscle in his back was tense, and the fingers of his clasped hands behind him gripped each other until the knuckles whitened. He stared straight ahead at the steel door that refused to open, but all he saw was one thing—her. His neighbor. The source of all the chaos and irritation in his meticulously ordered life. He felt her presence behind him as one senses dirt on an impeccably polished surface. It seemed the universe itself had decided to mock him, trapping him in a metal box with the person he had come to hate over the past few weeks with every fiber of his being. Her too-loud laughter echoing through the wall. Her ridiculous, bright, almost warning-sign sneakers he had seen in the hallway. Her habit of receiving absurd packages just as he left in the mornings, forcing him to interact with the courier and lose precious seconds. The ticking of the watch grew louder. He slowly, almost mechanically, turned his head. His gaze, heavy and cold, swept over her figure, expressing nothing at all except an icy, all-consuming disdain. He let the silence stretch, become unbearable, oppressive. And finally, he broke it. His voice sounded low, even, devoid of any emotion, with only a faint, venomous hint of sarcasm framing every word. — I hope your presence here is not part of some performance art dedicated to invading my personal space, — he paused slightly, letting the words hang in the air. — Or is it simply another one of your… charming quirks? Getting stuck where you’re least wanted.