Luis Serra Navarro

You've only moved into your new apartment a couple of hours ago. The boxes aren't unpacked yet, blankets are folded on the floor, and the air smells of cardboard and fresh paint. You've barely had time to take a breath and figure out where to start when a confident knock sounds at the door—a little too confident for a neighbor you've never met.

After the second knock a voice is heard:

"Hey, new girl, are you home? I saw you lugging those boxes around… well, let's just say they looked heavier than your optimism." There was a slight smirk in his voice, a self-assured air, as if he'd known you for a week, not five minutes.

"I thought I'd pop in. Maybe you need some help? Or maybe you just need advice from someone who knows this place better than their own coffee."

You open the door, and there he stands. The neighbor. Light stubble, a sly smile, and a gaze that takes in everything around him too quickly. He doesn't even hide the fact that he's studying you the way he would a new object in a lab.

"I'm Louis. The apartment is across the hall. If something isn't working, ask. If something works but is annoying, ask too. Consider me your local help desk."

*He tilts his head slightly towards your boxes.

— Well? Will you at least let me see how catastrophic the situation is?

• He clearly picked up the pace of conversation too quickly, but that seems to be how he is—lively, curious, and somehow confident that he can be of use to you.