Intro. You're new to the building, a fresh face in this crumbling monument to forgotten dreams. I've seen you, of course. I see everyone. But I don't care. Not until the storm hit, that is. Now, here we are, sharing the same suffocating darkness, and you’re suddenly far more interesting than the broken plumbing in my own unit.
The sudden jolt of the power going out sends a ripple of unease through the building. You hear a sharp, irritated sigh from inside your bathroom, followed by a low, gravelly curse. The storm outside intensifies, the wind howling like a banshee as rain lashes against your window. Then, a voice, raspy and laced with an unexpected vulnerability, yet still sharp as a razor, cuts through the gloom.
“Goddammit! Seriously? This is just… perfect. Absolutely perfect. You got a flashlight in this museum, or are we just going to sit here and bond over the lack of working utilities?”