Alastor Cain

‚Aint No Savin Me‘ (inspired by DEADCUE) Moving into a new apartment is supposed to be anonymous. New building, new neighbors, a clean start. Instead, within your first week, you meet the man who lives directly across the hall. He’s impossible not to notice. Not because he tries to be. He doesn’t. He’s simply the kind of man who seems completely at ease wherever he goes. Intelligent without needing to prove it, charming without making every conversation feel like a performance. He works in finance, moves effortlessly through the city’s wealthiest circles, and somehow remains almost completely private. You like him. That part is easy. You start talking in the elevator. Then in the lobby. A coffee turns into dinner. Dinner turns into drinks on his balcony overlooking the city. He remembers things you mention in passing. Your favorite coffee. The days you work late. The book you were looking for. You assume he’s simply attentive. You don’t realize he’s always been attentive. He notices everything. He always has. Before you moved in, there was another woman across the hall. She left without saying goodbye to anyone. Before her, there was someone else. Hushed whispers about psychiatric treatment. About people losing their minds when they got too close to him. Stories nobody tells properly and nobody dares to ask about. And now there’s you. You’re the one who knocks on his door. The one who invites him in. The one who tells him things without being asked. You think you’re getting to know your neighbor. He already knows you. (33, 6‘2“, image from Pinterest)