Chapter Text
The apartment seemed perfect when they moved in. Not too far from campus, third floor, and surprisingly quiet for a building filled with mostly students. Now that they were in their third year of university, Anne thought it imperative that they move to a quiet place and really buckle down.
"It's impossible to be more buckled down than you already are, Anne," Diana had said with a laugh. "A is the highest grade you can get!"
So far, everything was going well. Sure, the window of the lowest apartment had a constantly rotating collection of beer cans that Anne and Diana dubbed their "public art collection”, but the neighbors didn't make much noise or leave laundry in the machines for hours on end, so they couldn't complain. That was, until the Friday after midterms.
"Ugh, I hate everyone and everything!!!" Anne wailed as she flopped onto the couch. "Why won't they shut the fuck up!"
"It is Friday, Anne," Diana replied, patting her head sympathetically. "They wouldn’t expect anyone to be working on a paper tonight.”
"Investigative journalism doesn't stop after midterms!" Anne retorted hotly.
"I know that, but they don't. They don't know you have a deadline tomorrow."
Two heads turned at the sound of "YESSSSS Fred!" coming from the apartment downstairs.
"It does sound like fun," Diana said with a sympathetic smile. At Anne's groan, she added, "what if I get them to quiet down, and you can use the emergency earplugs we had for when Moody came to stay with Ruby? If you use those and blast some white noise, you probably won't even notice them." Anne gave a reluctant shrug, only to flail back onto the couch in annoyance at the sound of another exclamation directly below their feet. Diana hurried out into the hallway, leaning over to shout at people congregating below. "What the hell, why so loud?"
Laughter floated up from somewhere. "We're sorry – we'll keep them inside soon, we promise. Any chance you want to join us? We're secretly sampling home brew out here while the dumbasses inside drink Coors Light."
"Sure!" Diana replied, before she ran inside to throw a sweater over her tank top and tug on a pair of boots. Anne, momentarily speechless, watched her best friend with growing alarm.
"You’re not actually going down to the part – Di - Diana, wait!" Anne shouted desperately after her as she opened the front door.
"If I go down there, I might be able to talk them into staying quiet. Write your article – I’ll be back in a few minutes!"
"Diana Barry, you text me every five minutes or I am coming down there!"
10:55
[Anne]: I'm waiting
[Diana]: the guys are cute and I'm drinking a beer that I opened myself, stop worrying
[Anne]: I'll stop worrying for five minutes and then I expect another text.
11:00
[Anne]: was not kidding
[Diana]: they're nice grad students and there r a bunch of other girls here to keep a close eye on things
[Anne]: I still want regular updates I don't know those people
[Diana]: ilu ♡(˃͈ દ ˂͈ ༶ )
[Anne]: you can't emoji your way out of check ins
11:10
[Diana] still fine
[Anne]: how do I know it's you?
[Diana]: ur probly wearing days of the week underwear but not the right day
[Anne]: ...ok glad you're fine
Anne wrote and revised and proofread as her eyes drooped and she sank lower and lower in her chair. She eyed her phone every ten minutes and sighed with relief every time a "still fine!" text popped up. She inwardly cursed herself for her eleventh-hour attempt to finish her article, but she had to admit that it was always going to be this way. It was an exposé on discrimination in athletic scholarships, so it was always going to be written and rewritten a thousand times. The words “disparate impact” were still rattling in her head when her cheek hit the desk.
. . .
She blinked and groaned awake, noticing the sharp pain in her neck first. Her bleary eyes finally settled on her phone glowing back at her: 4:24 am. She blinked again, looking at Diana's last text.
12:17
[Diana]: (ノ^_^)ノ
Anne scrambled up from her desk and flew into Diana's room. Finding it empty, she unlocked her phone with shaking fingers and made a call, only to be sent straight to voicemail. Ignoring her bare feet, customary “loafing around” braids, and mismatched pajamas, she practically threw herself down the stairs and began knocking on the neighbors’ door. The knocks were becoming more frantic and she began calling Diana’s name as the seconds ticked away.
When the door finally opened, she toppled straight into the man who opened the door, still calling for Diana and trying to brush past him with hardly more than a “hi.” He caught her momentarily and helped settle her on her feet, but she spared him no more than a passing glance.
“Hey,” she heard him say in a sleepy voice that she might have found inviting if she hadn’t been so terrified, “are you looking for someone—"
“Where is Diana?!” she demanded, her own fatigue still muddling up with her terror as she pushed away his arms.
The man scrunched up his eyes in confusion. “I don’t – wait,” he called after her as she began scouring the still-darkened living room, reaching out to grab her elbow. “Hey, carrots, let me help—”
Anne whirled around and yanked her arm away from him, nearly catching his cheek with the back of her hand in the process. He jumped back in surprise. “I do not like nicknames,” she ground out, finally taking a breath to steady herself. Her unknown companion nodded slowly, but it was hard to see his expression with only a strip of light from the hallway to illuminate her surroundings. “Do you know if my friend is here?”
“Try the first bedroom,” he said carefully, sounding much more awake and subdued. “I’ll turn on the light out here so you can see.”
Anne opened the door and felt the tightness in her chest recede when she found Diana curled up on top of the comforter, looking just as peaceful and lovely as she ever did. Another woman lay next to her, also clearly passed out with her limbs askew and her shoes still on her feet. Anne crept over to wake Diana, who was most unhappy to be roused from her cosy spot.
“You have a very comfortable bed right upstairs, dearest,” Anne whispered to her when she gave a whine of protest. “Come on, you don’t even have to open your eyes. I’ll lead the way.” She helped Diana rise to her feet, though she was still slumped over and blinking slowly. Anne wondered if she would even remember how she got home the next day.
As they shuffled out into the living room, Anne’s new nemesis stood by the front door. “Can I help you get her home?” he murmured.
Anne glared at him out of the corner of her eye. “I can do it myself – it’s only one flight of stairs.”
A small smile played across his lips and Anne tried to ignore the dawning realization that her new nemesis was undoubtedly attractive. “Then I’ll just listen from here to make sure you get back safely.”
“Suit yourself,” she bit out with a haughty lift of her chin.
As she watched Diana crawl into her own bed and pull the covers up to her ears, she whispered, “Di, I hope that one party was enough, because I never want to meet our neighbors again.”