Violet's POV
I had the window down in Maddy's car, my head tipped back against the headrest, watching the city lights blur past.
"I'm just saying," I said in a slippery-tipsy voice. "I'm just saying. Why me? Why is it specifically me? It seems like I am the only one on this earth who has been selected to have a front row seat to Mr. Horny's entire life."
Maddy kept her eyes on the road. "Vi."
"No, seriously. Seriously, Maddy. There are - what - twelve units in that building? Twelve! And not one of those other people - not Mrs. Eden, not the couple with the dog on the fourth floor, not my cousin Maddy on the first floor - not one of them is losing sleep over this man's nighttime activities." I gestured broadly at the windshield. "Just me. It is exclusively, specifically, cosmically - just me."
Maddy exhaled very slowly through her nose. "Violet. You share a wall with him."
I turned to look at her.
"You. Share. A. Wall." She said it like she was talking to a one year old. "The sound travels through the wall. That's why it's you and not the couple on the fourth floor or me. We're not next to him."
I considered this.
"That's…" I pointed at her. "That's actually an excellent point."
"Thank you."
"That I absolutely already knew."
"Of course."
"I was being rhetorical."
"Naturally."
I turned back to the window. The city kept blurring past.
"Mr. Hanks," I continued, "should fix those walls."
"The landlord who doesn't exist?"
"The very one." I agreed. "Structural soundproofing, Maddy. It's a thing. It exists. If I can hear 10B achieving things that I, frankly, have not achieved in the eight months since I moved in…"
"Violet…"
"…then the walls are too thin and that is a building code issue and Mr. Hanks should be receiving strongly worded correspondence about it." I sat up. "Actually." I turned to her fully. "Actually. I should call the lawyers."
Maddy blinked. "The what?"
"The lawyers. Mr. Hanks' lawyers." I was already unzipping my bag. "You know he's not real, right? Nobody has ever seen him. He communicates exclusively through solicitors and bad hold music. He is a ghost with no paper trail of doing a single landlord thing." I found my phone. "But the lawyers are real. I've seen their letterhead. I'm going to call the lawyers and report…" I squinted at my phone screen. "…the walls, and 10B, and honestly the whole situation, because if I am losing sleep and jobs over this man's…"
"You've had a full bottle of Malbec, Vi. You're are not calling lawyers at…" Maddy glanced at the dashboard… "eight forty-seven at night. What are you even going to say?"
"That my neighbor's sexual stamina is destroying life through the walls."
Maddy considered this for approximately four seconds. Then she nodded, once, the decisive nod of a woman choosing chaos as a lifestyle.
"Call them Monday," she said. "Business hours. Write it all down first so you sound coherent."
"I always sound coherent."
"You called in a pediatric emergency this morning."
"Fregoli Syndrome is a real condition, Maddy."
"You do not have a child, Violet!"
"He's gifted! He's…" I dissolved into laughter.
Maddy was trying very hard to contain her laughter. "But on a serious note, Vi, if I had Mr. Horny on the other side of my wall, giving me sleepless nights…" She gripped the steering wheel tighter. "I would poison him. Quietly. Tastefully. But he would die."
I burst out laughing again.
"You'd actually do it," I wheezed. "You'd research it and everything."
"I would make it elegant."
"Something untraceable."
"Something that makes it look like natural causes." She nodded solemnly. "A man like that, you'd assume his lifestyle caught up with him eventually. No questions asked."
I wiped my eye. God, I loved her.
*****
She pulled into the parking lot of the club. The bass was already leaking through the walls, and the queue outside was a long, glittering snake of people dressed like they had absolutely no plans to be responsible tonight.
I felt something lift in my chest.
Yes.
This. This was what I needed. Heat and noise and people and no 10B and no Fabian and no manila envelopes and no sad cactus…
"Okay," Maddy said, killing the engine. "Rules."
"No."
"Vi…"
"No rules. I reject the premise." I was already unbuckling. "Tonight there are no rules. Tonight I am a free woman with excellent shoes and nothing to lose, which is technically true on both counts…"
"Stay where I can see you. Don't accept drinks from strangers…"
"But take drinks to strangers, completely different…"
"…and if you start crying on the dance floor, text me first."
I opened the car door and stepped out.
"Park quickly!" I called back, already moving.
"Violet, wait…"
I did not wait.
The queue was not a problem because I had long ago mastered the specific walk that implied you had somewhere to be that was more important than this, and the bouncer - a tall, unmoved-looking man with arms like hulk - glanced at me once and stepped aside.
I was nearly through the door when he held something out.
A mask. Red. Glittery. Little black ribbon ties.
I stopped. Looked at it.
"Mask night," he said, completely deadpan.
I took it. Turned it over in my hands. It was actually beautiful, and it matched perfectly with my dress.
I tied it on as I walked through the door.
The club enveloped me whole. The crowd looked like the kind of crowd that had collectively decided that tonight was the night and they were going to be absolutely unhinged about it. The air smelled like expensive perfume and poor decisions and I loved it deeply.
I found the dancefloor in a bit.
And then I danced. Moving my shoulders, my hips, twerking madly to the rhythm like I had no discipline whatsoever.
The music was exactly right. The bass was doing something sinful. The crowd was a warm, moving thing around me and I was part of it and I felt good.
I spotted Maddy.
She had made it inside. She was craning her neck above the crowd with the expression of someone who had already lost me and was conducting a search operation.
I loved her. I genuinely, deeply loved her.
But I also needed exactly forty-five more minutes of not being found.
I looked left. I looked right.
On the other side of the dancefloor, past the main bar, there was a corridor. Darker. The ambiance felt softer there.
I grabbed the nearest drink from the nearest hand…
"Sorry!" I called over my shoulder, already moving.
…and slipped toward the corridor.