Chapter 3 Want to Hook Me Up

It was even colder outside than when she had arrived.

The only warm sweater she had was completely soaked, stuffed into a bag. By the time Andy reached her door, she felt like her body was no longer her own. She unlocked the door, then instinctively glanced across the hall.

At this hour, the man across the hall was probably still out.

Usually, it was around two or three in the morning-when she was already deep in sleep-that he would walk past her door with a grin, knocking twice on the wooden panel with deliberate force. The sound was deafening in the quiet night, like rolling thunder.

And then, he'd simply return to his own apartment.

Doing absolutely nothing else.

It was infuriating, yet there was nothing she could do about it.

Andy had brought it up with the landlord multiple times, but nothing seemed to change.

Locking the door behind her, she put on the kettle and sent a message to Sara on Facebook, [Got home.]

Sara, who lived farther from New York City and was still on the subway, replied, [That fast? I still have a few stops to go.]

Sara, [Hey.]

Sara, [I was just thinking about Charlie's behavior tonight after stepping into the cold air again.]

Sara, [Do you think Charlie threw you his coat because he was afraid you'd be cold? And then, being too embarrassed to say so, he just came up with that excuse?]

Andy was digging through her wardrobe for a change of clothes when she saw the message. She paused. [Say something realistic.]

Sara, [?]

Sara, [How is that not realistic?!]

Andy, [He was there to resolve a problem.]

Andy, [So he was probably afraid I'd catch a cold and try to scam him for medical fees.]

Sara, [......]

Sara, [Then why didn't he just ask someone else to give you a coat?]

Andy, [In weather this cold, that's not an easy thing to do.]

Sara, [?]

Andy reminded her, [He might not be able to borrow one.]

Sara, [......]

Just then, a low-battery notification popped up.

Andy plugged in her phone and went into the bathroom.

As she carefully removed her makeup, she stared at her reflection in the mirror.

A pair of familiar yet unfamiliar brows and eyes flashed through her mind.

Lowering her gaze, Andy absentmindedly tossed the used cotton pad into the trash.

Even back when they were closest, she never truly understood Charlie. So now, she couldn't tell whether he was pretending not to recognize her or if he genuinely didn't remember.

Like a coin toss.

No clues to go on, no way to guess. Only luck could determine the outcome.

Because from what she knew of him, both possibilities...

Were entirely plausible.

-

After drying her hair, Andy habitually turned on her laptop and worked on a news article for a while.

When sleepiness finally set in, she crawled into bed and reached for her phone.

While she had been in the shower, Sara had sent a few more messages, [Anything is possible. Even if it isn't true, we can just imagine it to make ourselves happy.]

Sara, [I'm actually curious-how do you feel seeing Charlie again now?]

She had even attached a nosy emoji.

Andy thought for a moment. [He's still really handsome.]

Sara, [......]

Sara, [That's it?]

Andy, [I haven't thought of anything else. I'll let you know if I do.]

Andy, [I'm going to sleep now. Super tired.]

To be honest, saying she felt nothing would be a lie.

But she didn't think there was much worth discussing.

Bringing it up would only lead to a long conversation, and she'd rather use that time to sleep.

She tossed her phone aside and tried to drift off.

As expected, she slept terribly.

She was caught in a restless cycle of half-dreams and half-wakefulness, tangled in strange visions. Every time she felt like she was finally about to sink into deep sleep, she was jolted awake-

By that idiot next door slamming his palm against her door.

Andy yanked the blanket off her head, her entire body seething with frustration.

People generally agreed that she had a good temper-calm and composed, always handling things without panic. It was rare for her emotions to fluctuate drastically.

But everyone needed a way to vent.

And for her, that way was...

Extreme morning crankiness.

Getting woken up made her irrational.

Let alone in a moment like this, when she was just about to finally sleep.

Andy tried to calm herself, hoping that, like usual, the guy would knock a few times and then leave.

But this time, it was like he was possessed. The knocking continued relentlessly, accompanied by drunken hiccups.

"You still asleep? Pretty lady, do me a favor-my toilet's broken... let me use yours for a shower..."

Andy closed her eyes for a moment, then got up, grabbed her camera, adjusted the angle, and started recording the door.

Then, she picked up her phone and dialed 911, calmly reporting the address and situation.

After all this, whatever remained of her sleepiness vanished completely.

Alone in her apartment at midnight, with a drunk man harassing her outside.

Andy knew she should be afraid.

But at that moment, all she felt was anger and exhaustion.

She had no energy left for fear.

Since he never got a response, by the time the police arrived, the man had already returned to his apartment.

Andy showed them the footage and requested to settle the matter at the police station.

Since things had escalated to the point of calling the cops, she had no intention of settling amicably. She planned to move out after this was over.

The video showed the door trembling under the force of the knocking, accompanied by the man's slurred, insistent voice. It was disturbing to watch.

The officers knocked on his door.

It took a while before he opened it, his tone impatient. "Who the hell is it?!"

Despite the cold, he was only wearing a tight-fitting T-shirt, exposing a fierce-looking tiger tattoo on his muscular arm. His build was huge, muscles bulging like a brick wall.

"We received a report," one of the officers said. "You were accused of harassing your neighbor in the middle of the night."

"Harassment?"

The man hesitated for a few seconds, then pretended to be dazed, his tone much softer than before.

"Officer, I just got back from drinking... maybe I knocked on the wrong door by mistake? It's just a misunderstanding."

The officer's face remained stern. "The victim provided a video. You 'knocked on the wrong door' while also demanding to take a shower in her apartment? Don't bullshit me. Come with us to the station."

The man made a few more weak attempts to explain, but quickly gave up when he realized it was useless.

He lifted his head, his gaze dark and heavy, locking onto Andy, who stood behind the officers.

Andy leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, staring back at him with an expressionless face.

Her eyes were cold, devoid of any fear.

If anything-

She looked like she was staring at filth.

At the police station.

The man insisted he was just drunk and talking nonsense. Andy, on the other hand, clearly explained the situation over the past few days. However, this incident didn't cause her any financial loss; it only impacted her daily life, leaving her mentally sensitive and exhausted.

In the end, the man was fined a few hundred dollars and given a one-week detention, and that was the conclusion.

Before leaving the station, an older policeman kindly reminded her not to stay in shared rental housing.

It wasn't just this issue but other safety concerns as well.

Earlier, a fire had been caused by overloading electricity in a shared rental house, and the New York City government had started paying attention to this issue. Once the policy is approved, management would begin.

Andy nodded and thanked him.

By the time she left, the sky had already brightened.

She simply went back to the station.

After returning to New York City, Andy applied for a position at the city's television station, working on the "Transmission" program through external recruitment.

"Transmission" was a program focusing on people's livelihood, reporting on news from the city and surrounding towns. The main theme was "focusing on the lives of the people and conveying their voices."

Andy thought that her situation should be paid attention to, and she vaguely thought about whether to report this incident as a topic, as she entered the office.

The lights were on inside, but no one was there.

She went to the tea room to make a cup of coffee. She wasn't in the mood for much, not even breakfast. But she couldn't sleep, so she scrolled through the news apps before starting to write her article.

The whole day passed in a haze.

The new intern, John, was with her on an interview and seemed to hesitate as if he wanted to say something. In the end, he couldn't hold back and said, "Sister Andy, did I do something wrong?"

Andy only then realized that her grumpiness had lasted the entire day.

By the time she finished her news report, she made the rare decision not to stay late. She packed up her things and left.

That night, the cold wind made her feel like sharp ice blades cutting through her ears.

After walking a short distance, Andy received a message from Sara.

Sara, "Andy, I'm dead."

"..."

Andy, "?"

Sara, "I really am about to die!"

Sara, "My bracelet is missing!"

Sara, "It was a gift from my idol! I barely wore it, oh no!"

Andy, "Did you not find it?"

Sara, "No...TAT"

Sara, "I just noticed it was missing this morning at work. I thought it was at home, but when I got home, I couldn't find it."

Sara, "But I think I left it at Charlie's bar."

Sara, "Can you check for me after work? It's too far for me to go to San Francisco."

Andy, "Okay."

Andy, "Don't worry too much."

Her mind seemed sluggish, and after a bit of slow thinking, she finally raised her foot. Fortunately, it wasn't far from here to the bar; it was just a seven- to eight-minute walk.

She made her way to "Overtime" bar.

Inside, things were different from last night. The round table was replaced by a rock band, and the music was so loud it numbed her ears. The bar was dimly lit, with a lively atmosphere, and the colorful lights flickered rapidly.

Andy approached the bar.

It was the same bartender with the yellow hair from last time.

Andy caught his attention, "Hello."

The bartender smiled. "Good evening, miss. What can I get you?"

Andy shook her head and directly got to the point, "I lost a bracelet when I came here with a friend yesterday. Do you happen to have found it?"

The bartender seemed to recognize her immediately, nodding, "Yes, please wait a moment."

"Thank you."

Andy waited as the bartender opened a drawer and searched inside. Then he opened another drawer and rummaged through it. His movements suddenly stopped as he looked up and waved in a certain direction, calling out, "Jack."

The server named "Jack" came over. "Hey. Brother Bob, what's up?"

Andy looked over.

She immediately recognized him as the server who had spilled the drink on her last night.

The bartender was confused, "I thought the bracelet was in here. How come it's missing?"

"Ah? That bracelet..." Jack was also confused and suddenly remembered. "Oh, right. When Brother Charlie came down to get his clothes, he took the bracelet with him."

"..."

Andy was stunned, unable to believe what she had heard. "What?"

Jack repeated, "Brother Charlie took it."

"..."

This time, Andy heard it clearly, and she couldn't believe it.

The owner of a large bar like this, so blatantly taking a customer's lost property as his own.

The bartender, clearly unaware of this, looked puzzled, "How could Brother Charlie take it? Where did he go? Wasn't he just here?"

Jack looked clueless, "I don't know."

A brief silence followed.

The bartender awkwardly looked back at Andy. "Sorry, the lost items are generally handled by the boss here. Maybe you could leave your contact info, or I can try contacting the boss now?"

Andy didn't want to stay there too long, figuring she could come back tomorrow to pick it up. "It's fine, I'll leave my contact info."

"Okay." The bartender handed her a business card. "Write it down here."

Andy lowered her head and wrote down a phone number, handing it back. "Please help me look for it. If you find it, you can call this number-"

Before she could finish, someone suddenly snatched the business card from behind her.

Andy turned around in surprise.

It was Charlie, standing close behind her, almost trapping her. He was tall and handsome, with his head slightly tilted, casually glancing at the business card.

Then, his gaze met hers.

In the bright, noisy bar, with the deafening music and the mixed smell of tobacco and sandalwood, the man's expression, usually cold, now carried a hint of casualness.

His eyes-familiar yet strange-looked as though he had recognized her.

In an instant.

His lips curled into a half-smile as he said, "Not giving up, huh?"

Andy was taken aback, not understanding his words.

Charlie casually tossed the business card back at her and stood up straight, increasing the distance between them.

"You came all the way here just to leave your contact info?"