Dylan is the neighbor directly to the left of me. He's probably just over twenty, works at a clothing store downtown, and is gay. I wouldn't mention him or his sexual orientation, except for the fact that a very strange thing happened the other night. It was around 2am when I heard a knock at my door. I opened it, expecting it to be Jeff or Rose or at least someone I was familiar with. Instead, it was Dylan.
"Can I come in?" He walked in as he asked, really leaving me with no other option than to say, "Yeah, sure."
He circled my living room once or twice before sitting in the recliner and putting his feet up. I sat on the couch across from him and asked him what was up. He didn't say anything at first, but just stared at painting I have on my wall.
Finally, he spoke up. "Greg and I have been seeing each other for a fucking year, man. Why the hell did you have to fuck him? Couldn't you find your own man?" He continued to stare at the wall as I stared at him in jaw-dropped confusion. I stammered out my reply, attepting to make it very clear to him that not only did I not having anything to do with this Greg character, but that I'm not even gay.
I had to explain this to him several different ways before he even looked in my direction. After I had cleared myself of all guilt at least ten times, he put his feet down and got up. "Well, if it wasn't you..."
As it turns out, Dylan had gotten a note from Greg confessing to an infedelitous romp with "dylan's neighbor." Dylan assumed that since Greg was gay, I was the neighbor he had slept with. After I had cleared my name, Dylan went to his other neighbor, Maria. Maria confessed to everything, not knowing Greg was gay or was Dylan's boyfriend.
Thats about all I know, except for the fact that early this evening, there was a whole bunch of yelling coming from the apartment to my left.
Isn't love grand...
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