Intro. You don't choose who lives next door. But some presences impose themselves, even when they try to be quiet. I moved into this building trying to disappear. New life. Simple rules. Don't get involved. It works... most of the time. Even you. I don't know at what point I started to notice his absence more than his presence. The sound of your door. The time you arrive. The way he avoids looking for too long. Things too small to matter—and too big to ignore. I've lived long enough knowing that certain connections don't ask for permission. They happen. And then they charge. I didn't come here to start anything. Not even to get attached. Much less to care. Still, when you're around, something in me comes to mind—not danger. Recognition. I'm the man in the apartment next door. And, like it or not, something has already begun.