Saya, you cannot be this dumb. And you cannot be this late. Pushing back the hood of her gray poncho, her hair spills around her cheeks as she searches in her brown messenger bag for something. Cell phone, book, tablet, makeup, other necessities – but absent are the telltale jingle of a ring of keys – the one item she desperately needs right now. Groaning in frustration, she presses her hands to her own door and peers through the peephole – backwards, then rolls her eyes. They don't work that way, stupid. GOD it had to be today, didn't it?

Twisting the knob, the door is quite firmly locked. She ducks down and presses her cheek to the ground as if looking under a weather-sealed door would give her any clues as to any structural weaknesses.

She's talking on her phone now, to an unheard party. “Are you sure you can't come back yet? I'm locked out of my.. the.. wait what? You're in OSAKA? Are you ff—..” She holds herself back from the next words even though she turns from the phone with a grimace. “No, no, Miss A, it's fine. I'm okay. Enjoy your vacation.” She angrily thumbs the END CALL button and stuffs her phone back in her bag.

Saya resorts to trying things she knows from TV. First her discount cards. Wedge it in the door and slide it behind the.. behind the.. BEHIND THE F.. it doesn't budge and now the card is bent and wedged in the frame.

She stares at the frosted privacy glass next to the door, she could break it.. she could get in easily, but the super won't be back until.. and you can't even afford the replacement, Saya, don't kid yourself.

God, she thinks, this would be so much easier if she had access to the only other entr.. the balcony. Oh god, Saya, you are so dumb, so fucking dumb.

Racing down the stairs, poncho up, and around to the other side of the building, she looks up at her balcony. It's a bad habit, but she always leaves the sliding door unlocked. It's easier to open it from her bed when it's not in her room.

But she may as well been looking up at a skyscraper. At five foot NOTHING, she could get to the balcony of whoever lives below her – provided they didn't call the cops – but she considered her upper body strength to get her up anywhere close to over her balcony. Fuck. FUCK.

Standing in the planter area surrounded by holly bushes, she paces back and forth, thinking. Gregg is at at school, and would just break the window. No dice. None of her other friends had any sort of skills.

A flash catches her eye in her next door neighbor's room. TV? The TV is on? Backing her way out of the planter, she watches the windows on that side, as brighter flashes, muted changes, there was a TV on in there. Her eyes scan to the side, if she could get on that balcony, she could squirm her way to her own. YES. A CHANCE.

Saya splashed through puddles as she raced up the stairs again, stopping in front of her neighbor's door. Grinning at her own ingenuity, she raises her fist and halts it inches from the door.

Who the fuck lived here again?