It was a Thursday night, the first time he heard her. It wasn’t a particularly attention grabbing sound, the din of someone crying, but it was loud enough to cultivate Jungkook’s curiosity. Somewhere in the midst of all the shuffling around, he ended up by the wall that separated the room between the boys and their next door neighbor.

It was such a dainty cry. He could hear little faint wails of emotion spilling from the stranger next door, and just from that, he yearned to make her feel better. The pain resonated through the walls, and suddenly he could feel himself going to that wall every night just to see if she would laugh just once.

She finally did one day, and it was a breath-taking laugh. He found himself smiling along with her and she continued with her conversation. It must’ve been a phone call from what he could tell.

Tonight was another Thursday night, exactly a week since he’d first acquainted himself with the sound.

“Hyung.” He tapped the older on the shoulder. “What’s she saying? I think it’s in English, I can’t tell.”

The demeanor of the phone call was a dark one once more. She was crying again, only this time, it was another phone call.

Namjoon pressed his ear to the wall. He squinted, letting her words sink in before translating.

“Why don’t you trust me?” He furrowed his eyebrows. “Um… I can’t take this anymore.”

Jungkook eyed his friend with interest, waiting for him to continue.

“Why are you doing this to me? Why can’t you just let me do this?” Namjoon sighed. “It’s hard to hear everything.”

“Is she okay? Is she still crying?” Jungkook prodded. “Should we do something?”

The older kept