"Neighbors?!"
June's voice echoed in the apartment as she swapped her heels for a pair of comfy slippers.
"Since when have we been neighbors with that grumpy uncle?" she asked, her face contorted in disbelief.
Dora, stepping out of her room, caught sight of June pressing a hand to her chest, trying to steady her breathing.
"What happened to you?" she asked, pouring a glass of water and handing it over.
Jane, lounging on the couch with her legs crossed, tossed popcorn into her mouth while flipping through channels.
"Who's this grumpy uncle?" Dora raised an eyebrow.
June let out a dramatic sigh. "The mad psychiatrist."
Dora snorted, amused by June's exaggerated title. "You mean the guy you were practically begging to help you? I thought you liked him?"
June waved dismissively. "That grumpy uncle? Who wants his help?" She avoided mentioning how he had outright rejected her offer.
Jane smirked from across the room. "He turned her down. That's what happened."
"Oush" June dramatically phased her hand on her chest as she rolled her eyes at the truth of being turned down. Yet she won't say she was rejected or turned down more of a failed, business transaction.
"Back to my question, how are we neighbors with him and since when?"
Dora, smiling weakly, finally answered June's original question. "He's been our next-door neighbor since… well, forever."
June planted a hand on her hip, trying to recall any memory of him. Nothing. Not once had she seen him or even noticed his presence.
But then, realization struck.
The ghost neighbor.
The one who had rejected every peace offering. The one who had called the cops on them whenever they had late-night karaoke or dance parties. Of course, it had to be him.
And just when she thought it couldn't get worse…
"He's also our landlord."
June choked on her water, spraying it all over Dora's dress. "Sorry, he's our what?!"
Dora sighed, wiping her chin. "Landlord. You know, the person who owns this place?"
"Why was I not informed?" June demanded.
"Everyone knows. How the hell don't you?" Jane taunted, chuckling.
Dora shrugged. "That's how I got his number in the first place. His mom and mine are acquaintances."
June's lips curled into a mischievous grin. She clapped her hands together with a manic gleam in her eyes. "Well, this just got interesting."
Dora groaned. "June, don't you dare—"
June tilted her head, batting her lashes innocently. "What could a sweet, helpless lady like me possibly do to a grumpy old landlord?"
Jane scoffed. "More like a she-devil." She stretched her arms, yawning as she stood up. "Good luck, Dora. I'm out."
….
"Grumpy uncle! Grumpy uncle!" The door went wild with just a few enthusiastic knocks.
A heavy sigh drifted through the other side before the door creaked open, revealing a very unimpressed Dave. His hair is slightly tousled, and he looked like a man who have already regretted answering the door.
June beamed up at him, holding out a small container. "Hi, I baked you cookies! Want some?" She tilted her head, trying to peek past him into his apartment.
Dave didn't even glance at the offering. "No, I don't. And I'm gonna need you to leave." His tone is firm, but June acted like she didn't hear the last part.
"Why not? They're fresh! And delicious! I even shaped one like your face, grumpy and all," she teased , wiggling the container.
"You're being a bug to the neighbors," he mutters, attempting to shut the door, but June expertly wedged her foot in.
She gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest. "Me? A bug? I'll have you know I'm a delightful presence, a ray of sunshine in this gloomy world!"
"Then go shine somewhere else," he deadpanned , trying to push the door closed.
"But I need your help!" she blurted out, pushing against the door.
"No," he stated , still shoving.
"Please! Just hear me out!"
"No."
"You're my last hope!"
"Still no."
"Only you can help me!"
"Hard pass."
"Be my fake boyfriend!" she finally shouts, making Dave momentarily froze.
His hand tightened on the doorknob as he turned to face her fully, eyes narrowed in deep confusion. "…What?"
June clapped her hands together like a pleading child. "Be my fake boyfriend! Just temporarily! I really, really don't want to look desperate, but I totally am. And I think if you pretend to date me, it'll solve all my problems!"
Dave stared at her, his lips parting slightly as if he was about to say something, but then he simply exhaled and rubbed his temples. "You need a psychiatrist."
"Great! Because you are a psychiatrist! So, you can cure me and be my fake boyfriend at the same time! Talk about efficiency!" She grin like she just came up with the smartest plan in history.
Dave blinked at her, his expression unreadable. Then, with the flattest tone possible, he said, "Good night, Miss June."
Before she could react, his hands gently but firmly removed her grip from the doorframe, and then, slam!
The door shuts right in her face.
June gaped at it for a moment, then scowled. "Mean donkey! You think you'll get rid of me that easily? Ha! Wish on it!" She pounded on the door once more for emphasis before spinning on her heels and marched back to her apartment.
Back inside, Dora watched as June stomped through the door, muttering under her breath. Dora pulled out a bottle of juice from the fridge, raising a brow.
"Where are you coming from?"
"Extending friendship to our new old neighbor and adamant landlord who just won't budge," June huffed, kicking off her shoes.
Dora sighed. "And now what are you planning?"
June stretched her arms dramatically, moving toward the balcony. "I'm going to convince my fake boyfriend to be my real fake boyfriend."
Dora's eyes widened in horror as June placed a foot on the balcony railing.
"June! Get down from there!"
June flinched as a flower vase suddenly crashed to the ground below. She froze ,one leg already swinging over the barrier.
"Phwew." She lets out an exaggerated sigh, placing a hand over her chest. "That was close."
Dora pinched the bridge of her nose. "Did anything you just said make sense to you?"
June nods solemnly.
Surrendering, Dora turned away. "Fine. Just don't die. I have more important things to think about." She threw herself onto the couch, rubbing her temples.
"I need inspiration for a new book idea," she grumbled . "Something fresh, something engaging."
Jane, who have been lounging on the couch unnoticed, suddenly perked up. "If you're looking for a story, why not write about June?"
Dora jumped, her head snapped toward Jane. "How long have you been sitting there?!"
Jane grind and waved lazily. "Long enough to witness that whole desperate fake-boyfriend scene. Honestly, June is a goldmine of content. She's crazy, self-righteous, and has a mission that we both know is impossible. Readers will eat that up."
Dora blinked, then slowly tilted her head in thought. "Huh. That's… actually a good idea."
Jane gasped dramatically. "Excuse me?! Are you saying I actually said something sensible?"
Dora quickly corrected herself. "Nothing! Forget it!"
Before Jane could retaliate, Dora dashed to her room, slamming the door behind her.
Jane smirked and stretched out on the couch. "I'll take that as a win."
.…
Dave stormed out of the kitchen, his expression dark with confusion and frustration. "How did you get in here?"
June barely registered his words. Her gaze had already locked onto his abs, and suddenly, breathing became a struggle. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard, the room's temperature spiking in an instant. The air around her seemed to still, trapping her in a moment where all she could hear was the wild thumping of her own heart.
"Hot," she blurted before her brain could catch up.
Dave frowned. "What?"
June blinked rapidly, shaking her head as if to clear it. "Hot! I mean, it's really hot in here." She waved her hands dramatically in front of her face, forcing herself to focus on anything but the way his sweatpants hung low on his hips. "Is there no air conditioning? Why does it feel like a sauna in here?"
Dave folded his arms, clearly unimpressed. "Everything is fine. The problem is you. How did you get in here?"
June pursed her lips, still trying to cool the warmth creeping up her face. "Through the balcony and door."
His brows shot up in disbelief. "You climbed into my apartment?"
Ignoring his disapproving tone, she inhaled deeply and caught a whiff of something incredible. Her eyes lit up as she pivoted toward the kitchen. "Wait—are you cooking?"
She dashed past him before he could stop her, her curiosity leading her straight to the stove. The rich, mouthwatering scent of seasoned crab and prawns filled the air, making her stomach tighten with hunger.
"Wow," she breathed, peering over the pot. "Can I have some?"
"No," Dave said flatly. "And you need to leave. Now."
June gasped, turning to face him with exaggerated offense. "Oh, come on! I risked my safety—all for you! And you're just going to shoo me away like some stray cat?" She gestured to the pot. "Won't you at least offer me a drink? Or, better yet, some of this tasty meal you're making?"
Dave exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Guests are offered hospitality. Evaders are kicked out." He jabbed a finger toward the door. "Now leave."
June ignored the warning signs flashing in his eyes and grinned mischievously. "At least say yes to my proposal—"
Before she could finish, she felt his fingers wrap firmly around her wrist. In one swift motion, he dragged her toward the door, completely unfazed by her attempts to dig her heels into the floor.
"Dave! Let's be rational—"
The door swung open.
"Wait! You haven't even—"
Slam!
The door shut in her face.
June stood there, blinking at the wood panel in stunned silence. "Well, that went great," she muttered sarcastically before trudging back to her own apartment.
The moment she stepped inside, she was met with two pairs of eager eyes staring at her expectantly. Dora and Jane sat on the couch, practically leaning forward with anticipation.
Dora spoke first, her impatience evident. "How did it go? Did you succeed?"
June let out a dramatic sigh before throwing herself onto the couch. She shoved her hips against the cushions, pulling her knees to her chest and burying her face in them.
"He didn't even look at me," she groaned, her voice muffled.
Her eyes flickered toward Dora, who sat cross-legged, flipping through a book with a peculiar level of concentration. June narrowed her gaze, her curiosity piqued by the way Dora's fingers traced every word on the page with intent.
Suspicion crept into her tone. "What are you doing?"
Dora stiffened. With a sheepish expression, she subtly moved the book behind her back. "Nothing."
"She's writing a book about you and your grumpy uncle," Jane cut in, a satisfied smirk on her lips.
June sat up immediately, her jaw dropping. "You're kidding."
"Not even a little," Jane confirmed, clearly reveling in the payback.
June folded her arms and huffed. "Well, good luck making that a success."
Dora grinned. "Oh, don't worry. I will."
…
Dawn soon came, June, May, and Samantha find themselves in a shady part of town, searching for the source of a leaked video. The environment is unwelcoming, filled with shirtless men smoking and drinking, and the tension in the air is thick. They enter a run-down internet café, where a sleazy man takes a particular interest in May. Using her charm reluctantly, May gets the information they need: the computer responsible for the upload was used by a man named Alie. Their next step? Track him down.
The muddy road squelched beneath their feet as June, May, and Samantha made their way through the dimly lit street. The air was thick with an unpleasant mix of smoke, alcohol, and something else that made May wrinkle her nose.
"Are you sure this is the place?" June asked, her eyes darting around the environment. The area reeked of trouble, from the shirtless men puffing on pipes to the shattered glass littering the ground.
May flinched as the sound of a bottle shattering pierced the air. She turned to see a drunk man tossing the empty container aside before stumbling toward a group of rowdy figures laughing in the distance.
"This place doesn't look welcoming," May muttered, hugging her arms to her chest.
"Nowhere is," June shot back, barely fazed by the scene.
With a shared glance, they quickened their pace toward a run-down building with flickering neon letters barely spelling out Café.
The moment they stepped inside, a man with a loose shirt and a bald head approached them, his attention immediately locking onto May. His chest, thin and sunken beneath the fabric, puffed slightly as if trying to appear more impressive.
"Hello," Samantha greeted, her tone polite but firm.
The man barely acknowledged her, his lips curling into a cocky smirk as he ran a hand over his shiny scalp. "Hello there," he purred, his gaze lingering on May.
June pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh, while May stiffened, clearly uncomfortable.
Samantha, sensing an opportunity, nudged May forward. "Ask him," she whispered, smirking.
May shot her a murderous glare but, with no other choice, forced a tight-lipped smile and turned to the man. "Can we use your computers?"
He grinned wider. "Of course. They're all yours. And if you want, I can be yours too."
June snorted. "Oh, she'd love that," she teased, earning another sharp glare from May.
Shaking off the interaction, they moved to the row of dusty computers. Samantha cracked her fingers before pulling up the system logs, her eyes scanning rapidly. Within seconds, she found what they were looking for.
"This is the one," she announced, her fingers flying across the keyboard.
"Are you sure?" May asked, dubious.
Samantha shot her a pointed look. "No, May, I just guessed." She rolled her eyes. "Of course I'm sure."
May mumbled something under her breath, which June caught. "You two are definitely sisters. Both of you are annoying."
"In sync, the two responded, 'Shut up.'
Samantha smirked. "Now, all we need is to figure out who used this computer yesterday."
June's eyes twinkled as she glanced at May, and before she even spoke, May's head was already shaking in protest.
"Don't you dare think about it."
"Your choice," June shrugged. "Would you rather risk losing your career and job, or swallow your dignity and ask Baldy over there for the user's name?"
May groaned, her face tightening in frustration. With a deep breath, she turned, shoulders squared, and marched toward the man.
His eyes lit up as she approached, his hands smoothing over his shirt as if he were about to receive a marriage proposal.
"You never told me your name earlier," May purred, running a hand lightly over his bald head.
"That's because you didn't ask," he replied, wiggling his fingers playfully.
May's eye twitched. "Well, now I'm asking. Won't you tell me?"
"Lee," he said, puffing his chest out.
"Lee." She smiled, tilting her head. "Tell me, who usually uses that computer?"
Lee leaned in as if she had just asked for his deepest secrets. "That'd be Alie. He's the only one who ever touches that thing."
May's hand dropped immediately. "Perfect."
Samantha and June exchanged a victorious glance before Samantha asked, "Where can we find this Alie?"
Lee smirked. "Depends. What's in it for me?"
June patted May's back. "She can give you a—"
May cut her off with a sharp glare. "Nothing," she snapped. "We just need his address."
With a dramatic sigh, Lee finally gave them the information.
After a short, tense drive, they arrived at a rundown apartment complex. The building was old, with peeling paint and cracked windows. Samantha stepped forward and knocked firmly on the door.
"This is it?" May asked, her arms crossed as if shielding herself from whatever they were about to uncover.
"Unless the guy gave us the wrong address," Samantha muttered, adjusting the sleeves of her jacket before marching toward the door. She knocked twice. No response. A pause, then another set of firm knocks.
The door swung open abruptly, revealing a tall, broad-shouldered man. His beard was unkempt, his eyes shadowed with exhaustion—or something darker.
"Yes?" His voice was rough, impatient.
Samantha opened her mouth to speak, but June took an instinctive step forward, her breath hitching in her throat. Recognition slammed into her like a wave.
"You," she breathed.
Alie's gaze locked onto her, and something in him snapped. His body went rigid, his fists curling at his sides. The air between them turned heavy, charged.
June took another step, her brows furrowed. "You're the janitor. You used to work at the media company."
Alie let out a sharp, humorless laugh, shaking his head. "Oh, so you do remember me?" His voice was bitter, dripping with resentment. "I was wondering how long it'd take before you recognized the man whose life you ruined."
May and Samantha exchanged a quick glance, their guard instantly up.
June frowned. "Ruined? What are you talking about?"
Alie's expression twisted with rage. "Don't play dumb, June! You told her to leave me. You filled her head with lies, made her think I was some monster! And guess what? She listened to you."
Realization struck, and June's stomach tightened. His girlfriend. She had come to her once, desperate, scared, trapped in a relationship she couldn't escape. June had only given her advice—to walk away, to put herself first.
"She left because you hurt her, Alie. I only gave her the courage to do what she needed to."
Alie's nostrils flared, his fists clenching. "You don't get to decide that!" He took a menacing step forward. "I lost my job. I lost her. And all because you had to stick your nose where it didn't belong."
Samantha moved subtly, shifting in front of May, her muscles tensed for anything.
June held her ground. "She left because she deserved better."
Alie let out a sharp breath, his chest heaving. Then, without warning, his arm jerked forward. Something cold and hard suck in her side stomach.
Pain exploded in her body as she stumbled back, her vision blurring. The cruelsome pain sting every second by, in a quick look at her finger that had paced at her side, a realization fell through as her fingers came stained in red.
"June!" May screamed, lunging toward her as she lost balance of her weight.
Samantha didn't hesitate—she swung forward, landing a solid punch to Alie's gut. He grunted, staggering back, but his fury didn't wane.
"You think you can walk into my life and not pay for what you did?" Alie spat, his voice wild. "This is your fault!"
This wasn't just revenge.
This was a grudge he had been nursing for far too long.
And now, it had boiled over.