Saturday morning came with quieter streets and slower footsteps in the hallway. Liam woke up without an alarm, something he hadn’t done in weeks. The room was dim but calm, and he stayed in bed for a moment before getting up. He made coffee in the small machine he finally unpacked, then opened the window to let in the cool air drifting through the building courtyard.

He didn’t have plans. That was the point of the weekend. He drank his coffee while looking at the list he wrote the night before: laundry, groceries, maybe unpack one more box. Simple things.

Around ten, he grabbed his laundry bag and went downstairs. The laundry room was empty except for a flyer taped to the wall reminding people not to overload the machines. Liam tossed his clothes in, added detergent, and hit the start button. It stayed silent for a second before humming to life. He sat on the small bench near the door and scrolled through his phone without really reading anything.

Ten minutes later, he heard footsteps approach. A woman with shoulder-length brown hair pushed open the door with her hip while holding a basket full of towels. She looked at him, then at the washer he was using.

“Morning,” she said. “Machine number two behaving?”

“So far,” Liam said. “I heard it stops sometimes.”

“It does,” she said. “If it freezes, just hit the side. Not hard. Just enough to remind it that it’s supposed to work.”

Liam nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

She set her basket down and offered a small smile. “I’m Lily, by the way. I live on two.”

“Liam,” he said. “Third floor.”

“Thought I hadn’t seen you around before. You’re new?”

“A week in.”

“Welcome to the building,” she said. “It’s not fancy, but the heat works and the neighbors mostly mind their own business.”

“That’s all I need.”

Lily loaded her things into the washer. “You know Zoey, right? She mentioned talking to a new neighbor.”

Liam paused only for a second. “Yeah,” he said. “We’ve run into each other.”

“She’s good people,” Lily said. “Forgetful sometimes, but she means well. If she offers to lend you something, she’s serious about it.”

“I noticed.”

Lily laughed. “Good. Anyway, if you ever hear loud music on a Sunday morning, that’s probably me. Sorry in advance.”

“No worries,” Liam said.

They talked a little more—nothing deep, mostly about the building and where to find things in the neighborhood. When the washer beeped, Liam switched his clothes to the dryer, said goodbye, and headed back upstairs.

After the laundry finished, he grabbed his wallet and walked to the grocery store Zoey mentioned. It was two blocks away, past the bakery that always smelled like warm bread. The store wasn’t large, but it had fresh produce and decent prices. He picked out a few basics—pasta, vegetables, a pack of chicken, some fruit—and headed to the register.

The cashier scanned everything without saying much. The kind of quiet transaction that fit the morning.

On the way home, he passed a small park with a few benches and families with strollers. He didn’t stop, but he slowed down enough to take in the scene. The weekend had its own rhythm, different from the weekday rush.

Back in his apartment, he put the groceries away and finally opened another box. It was full of random kitchen items he had forgotten he owned—measuring cups, a cutting board, a whisk. He washed them and set them aside.

The afternoon moved by without much happening. He read a little, cleaned up the counter, and answered a message from Caleb about a sandwich place he recommended. Nothing urgent. Just passing time.

Around five, he decided to step outside for a walk. The evening air had cooled, and the neighborhood was livelier. People sat outside small restaurants, kids rode scooters down the sidewalk, a food truck parked near the corner selling tacos. Liam walked with no destination, circling a few blocks until the sky started to dim.

When he returned to the building, someone was carrying a box of takeout up the stairs. Liam stepped aside to let them pass, then continued up. At the second-floor landing, he heard a door close, followed by footsteps.

Zoey turned the corner holding a paper cup and a small brown bag. She stopped when she saw him.

“Hey,” she said. “You were out?”

“Just walking around,” Liam said. “Trying to figure out the area.”

“It’s a good neighborhood once you learn the shortcuts,” she said. She held up the bag. “I found a place with good dumplings. Not exactly healthy, but worth it.”

“Sounds like a solid find.”

She leaned against the wall lightly. “You get your errands done?”

“Most of them,” Liam said. “Laundry, groceries, that kind of stuff.”

“Adult chores,” Zoey said. “Always fun.”

He smiled. “You?”

“Worked on a few things at home,” she said. “Tried to clean my desk. Gave up halfway.”

“That happens.”

She sipped from her cup. The hallway was quiet except for a TV faintly playing behind a closed door.

Zoey shifted the bag in her hand. “Hey, random question. Are you busy Monday morning?”

Liam kept his expression steady. “A little. Why?”

“We have this intro call with that new team,” she said. “I’m trying not to overthink it, but I’m already doing it anyway.”

“You’ll be okay,” Liam said.

“That’s what I keep telling myself.” She paused, then shrugged. “Anyway. Just asking.”

He nodded once. “If it helps, Mondays usually feel worse before they start.”

Zoey laughed softly. “That’s weirdly accurate.”

She straightened up. “I should go eat this before it gets cold.”

“Yeah. Enjoy it.”

“Night, Liam.”

“Night.”

He watched her walk down the hall before heading upstairs. Something about the conversation stuck with him—not the content, but the timing, the way she asked about Monday without knowing anything yet.

Inside his apartment, he set his keys down and stood for a moment, letting the quiet settle. He cooked a simple dinner, watched a few minutes of a show he didn’t commit to, and eventually stretched out on the couch.

The building settled into its weekend nighttime pattern—doors opening and closing, muffled TV dialogue, someone laughing down the hall. It wasn’t loud, just lived-in.

Before going to bed, he looked over at his notebook but didn’t open it. Monday would come when it came.

For now, it was just Saturday night in a city he was starting to understand.