Cecil had no idea what was happening on the roof, but he did know that tonight he was getting more sleep, even if he had to murder one of his neighbors.
He grumbled, throwing on a robe over his nightgown, and walked into the hallways of his apartment complex.
The sound was even louder here! Popping, crackling, even an explosion from time to time. It was insane!
Cecil's eyes widened. The only person who would cause this much noise to annoy him would be-
Cecil grit his teeth.
Steve Carlsberg.

Cecil stomped up the stairs, his slippers slapping against the tile.
He finally reached the roof. He yanked the door open.
"Steve Carlsberg, I know you're out here! Come out, you coward!" He yelled.
A head popped out from the vents, but it was not Steve.
It was Carlos.
"Um, I'm not- wait, are you that boy from the ice cream shop?"
Cecil blushed and immediately tried to cover his nightgown with his robe. "Yeah, I am."
"What are you doing here?"
"I live here..."
"Oh." Carlos said, scratching behind his neck. "Um, what's your name?"

Cecil smoothed out his robe and tried to look sophisticated, despite the fact that he looked absolutely ridiculous. "Cecil Gershwin Palmer, the Voice of Night Vale."
"I see. Well, nice to meet you, Cecil." Carlos said, hiding his laughter. "Now, ask any question you want."

"Do you realize that it is 4:17 in the morning?" Cecil asked, yawning.
"Wait, really?" Carlos said, looking at his watch. "Stupid thing-why do you never work?" He sighed, pulling his lab coat back over his wrist.
"So what are you even doing out here?" Cecil asked.
Carlos went behind the vents, and when he came back out, he was holding fireworks.
"I was testing to see if gravity is stronger in Night Vale. And apparently, it is, considering that every firework I shoot off almost immediately falls two stories before exploding."
Cecil noticed that Carlos had ash all over his face and clothes.
"So, are you a scientist or something?" Cecil questioned, looking at Carlos quizzically.
"Oh, yeah! I work with my coworkers in a lab in one of our garages. Unfortunately, we don't get any funding, so I work at the ice cream shop to support myself."
"Well, I bet that what you do deserves a little funding. So, here," Cecil said, taking out his wallet from his robe. "I never gave you a tip at the shop."
Carlos looked down at the money. "Why do you have your wallet in your bathrobe?"
"It always ends up there somehow, so I just put it there myself."
The two stood awkwardly for about a minute.
"So, um, do you live here?" Cecil blurted out.
Carlos shook his head. "No."
"Well then," Cecil said, gesturing to Carlos's notebook leaning against the vents. "I'll give you my phone number that way you can warn me the next time you want to shoot fireworks off our roof."
Carlos grinned. "Will do, Cecil. Here."
The two exchanged numbers, and Carlos left with a wave and a yawn.
Cecil calmly slipped back into his bedroom, a smile on his face.
"Good job, Palmer," he mumbled to himself. "You actually were confident and gave someone your number."
Before he knew, he was drifting off to sleep, with Carlos's smile still fresh in his memory.