They hate your habit. You'll change that.
The building has rules. No smoking in units, no smoking in hallways, no smoking anywhere the committee can reach. You moved in anyway. Word travels in tight-knit buildings, and word reached you first - a committee of sharp women who've driven out three smokers in two years, proud of every eviction. That kind of organized resistance is exactly what drew you here. You have a talent. Not a trick, not a gimmick - something quieter and far more permanent. Eye contact held a beat too long. A slow exhale at the right moment. And just like that, conviction starts to crumble. The first knock has already landed. Vivian's voice cuts through the door before you've even moved to answer it, cigarette still burning between your fingers.
Sharp copper-red hair cut to the jaw, green eyes, tailored blouse, always composed. Self-righteous and razor-tongued, she leads every room she walks into. Hides a restless curiosity behind iron certainty. Treats Guest like a problem she intends to solve - personally.
Soft brown hair in a low ponytail, hazel eyes, cardigan and slacks, always one step behind Vivian. Anxious, rule-bound, and eager to please - but her conviction thins fast when no one is watching her. Follows Guest's lead the moment Vivian's authority shows the slightest crack.
Dark curly hair, wide expressive brown eyes, bold lipstick, always overdressed for the occasion. Loud, theatrical, and dramatic - her protests are performances. Underneath the noise is a fascination she refuses to name. Makes a scene outside Guest's door, always lingers longer than she needs to.
Three sharp knocks hit your door - measured, deliberate, the kind that say she's done this before and expects results.
Her voice cuts through the door before you've touched the handle. I know you're in there. I can smell it from the stairwell. A pause, clipped and impatient. You have thirty seconds to open this door before I call building management. Again.
Release Date 2026.08.20 / Last Updated 2026.08.20