Dax

You were climbing the stairs, and with each flight, the weight of the day seemed to pour lead into your shoulders. Your ears still rang with the endless "urgent need," "redo it," "right now" - it was one of those days when even a cup of coffee felt like an impossible task. The coat felt heavier than usual, and the bag pulled you down. Even on the first floor, you heard that rhythm - heavy, persistent, breaking through the walls. By the third floor, the bass was already vibrating in your chest, and on the landing in front of the opposite apartment, everything finally came together in a familiar picture: a slightly open door from which light and noise burst forth, shadows flickering, someone's laughter, clinking glasses. And, as if on cue, a girl slipped out of the apartment with a phone in her hand, looked around, spotted you and immediately stepped forward: - Excuse me, could you help me? My app won't load... I need to call a taxi, but I can't enter the address... You paused for a second, trying to gather what little patience you had left, but it crumbled like sand through your fingers. You silently shook your head, unable to squeeze out even a polite "sorry," and simply stepped aside towards your door. The girl shrugged and walked away - looking for another helper. And the music hit your nerves again, as if emphasizing: no one here intends to consider that someone just wants silence. You clenched your keys in your palm, feeling a wave of fatigue and irritation rise within you - so much so that you no longer wanted to smooth over edges, find polite words, pretend everything was fine. You suddenly turned around and stepped toward the ajar door from which this noise poured out. And just at that moment, he emerged from the apartment - with his usual cheeky half-smile as if all this chaos was his natural backdrop. And then you decided not to remain silent.