“Of course we can take pictures!” Harper declares, setting his groceries aside. “But on one condition.”

The adoring fans nod eagerly.

“Please don’t let anyone else know where I live?” Harper requests, surveying the group. More eager nods follow.

“It’ll be our little secret!” Pinky shouts and grabs Harper’s arm. I’m surprised her eyebrows don’t rub off by how forcefully she rubs her face against him.

Sociable people really are another breed. If those kids were doing that to me, they’d be on the floor in tears by now. They’re old enough to know the meaning of personal space.

As the (forced) designated camera guy, I take a few pictures of the group, but it gets worse. Pinky wants a picture with Harper by herself. Then her friends want individual pictures too. I’m handed one likely very expensive phone after the other, snapping photos of strangers and Harper posing goofily when all I want is to order dinner and watch bad TV!

What happened to the good ol’ days when cameras didn’t exist? If you wanted a picture, you had to sit for a few hours in front of a painter. My ass was numb from the chair, but at least we were dedicated!

“You really are so lucky,” one of the group says when retrieving her phone from me. The young girl has stars in her eyes, sparkling at me in obvious envy. “You get to see Harper everyday—”

Actually, I actively avoid him everyday.

“You can hang out at his place—”

He has tried to get me over on multiple occasions and maybe I’d consider going over if he didn’t have shit taste in music.

“And you can see his pretty face whenever you want!”

That really is the only perk—I mean, isn’t that the same as seeing him everyday?

Squealing, the fan returns to Harper’s side. Now that the very expensive phones are out of my grasp and the fans are swarming Harper, I leave him to his doom. I barely hear Harper call my name before I disappear into my cave. Time to get on my computer and search for some new places or maybe some type of influencer repellent.

Unfortunately, my research doesn’t come up with any repellent, but I’ve discovered that influencers appear to like taking pictures or filming videos in aesthetic settings. If I decorate my door in a hideous manner, perhaps it’ll go against Harper’s natural instincts and he’ll avoid me. I’ve never been one for arts and crafts, so making a disgusting door should be easy.

My research is put on hold though, when a loud squeal echoes from the hallway. I check the time. It’s been at least twenty minutes since I left Harper to the wolves. Have they not left yet?

I approach my door to peer through the peephole. Harper leans against the wall across the hall. His fans form a semi-circle around him like they’re about to perform a ritual sacrifice to boost their subscriber count. His groceries lay forgotten on the floor, the bags slightly damp from whatever frozen materials within that are slowly thawing.

These weirdos not only freakishly combed over videos and photographs to find Harper’s personal residence, but are also keeping him from entering his home for almost half an hour now! Why hasn’t he told them to bugger off? Whatever. It’s not my business.

“I should really get going,” Harper says, his voice slightly muffled but still audible through the door.

“Aw, please don’t go yet!” A fan demands.

Damn my curiosity. I peek out of the peephole again, feeling my eyebrow twitch when the fans cling to Harper’s arms so he’s locked in place.

“We traveled all this way to see you!” Pinky adds. “Let’s grab dinner. It’ll be my treat!”

“That’s really sweet, but I ate when I went out earlier, and I have a few things to do today.” Harper’s voice remains calm and collected when he should be annoyed. I’m annoyed and it isn’t even happening to me.

“Can’t we stay for a few more minutes?” the fans continue badgering him.

I step away from the door, done playing the part of the nosy neighbor. But another squeal a few minutes later sends me storming outside. Harper remains glued between the mini mob and his door. He, and them, stare curiously at me. I lean against my door frame. It’s a good way to appear intimidating, rather than admit that my ankle hurts and leaning gives me some relief.

“You’re being loud and incredibly rude,” I state, unsurprised by the teen’s glares.

“We’ll quiet down,” Pinky says.

“And leave,” I add, gesturing towards the elevators. “You can’t come to someone’s home without their permission, badger them when they’re clearly trying to get away, and annoy the neighbors. You’re old enough to know better.”

Pinky’s face matches her hair, then darkens red when she sputters, “Wha-what are you talking about?! Harper doesn’t mind that we’re here, right?!” She looks at him expectantly.

Harper’s eyes widen. “I, uh—”

“You’re putting him on the spot,” I declare, bringing Pinky’s attention back to me. Her brows furrow and hands drop to her side. “He’s being nice because you’re his fans, but he shouldn’t have to be when you’re invading his personal space. You got your pictures and had your time to talk. Now leave or I’ll call security.”

Harper bites his lip, lowering his gaze to the floor. When his fans look at him, he forces a smile and says, “It was really nice spending time with you, but this is causing an issue for my neighbor and I really do have things to do today.”

“In other words, skidaddle, shoo!” I say, waving my hand dismissively. Harper brushes a hand over his nose and snorts, holding in what I presume to be a chuckle.

“Whatever, jackass,” Pinky grumbles to me. She hugs Harper’s arm once more. “Thanks for talking to us! I can’t wait for the next video!”

“Bye!” the group calls, waving goodbye to Harper. They don’t give the same treatment to me. Each one struts by, fire in their eyes and vengeance in their hearts. I playfully wave my fingers at them. Pinky gives me the finger before getting in the elevator.

I might not have to decorate my door because a group of teens may return to do the job for me. Has this worked in my favor?

“Um, Adrian?” Harper calls, now standing beside me. He smiles. “Thanks for, y’know.”

“I won’t be the bad guy if this happens again,” I say, stepping inside. “Next time, just tell them to fuck off.”

“Wait!” Harper shouts. “Would you like to hang out tonight? I’m having—”

“A party?” I interrupt, holding back a groan. He nods. “No. Keep it quiet and goodnight.”

I shut the door in his face before he can drag me into another nonsensical situation.