Char was no good at creating social bonds; in fact, she was a certified socially awkward clutz. And finding out that she finally had a neighbor on her floor in the apartment complex she had been putting up in, she was nervous.

But, hey, guess what? She was a talented baker. Alongside spinning pleasing words, that was her only talent.

So, she baked blueberry muffins, and garnished them with fluffy whipped cream, and packed them in a lidded box. Tying up a little blue bow at the corner of the box, she wondered whether she was going over the top for a warm welcome. Was this welcome getting too warm? Like the Summer? It was February!

"No, it's not. You can do this, Char!" she pep-talked herself into picking it up and arriving at the door of the new neighbor. She was well-dressed; a mess in distress, but well-dressed. And she totally didn't remember Le Sserafim while thinking that; you're deluded.

Holding the box in one hand, she fixed her hair, which was pretty much already fixed. It was just pure paranoia, but she liked to think that it was what a normal person does on a normal day in this normal age. She might have been right, though.

"Let's do this!" she breathed out, and pressed on the doorbell. Ten long seconds later, while she wondered if the neighbor had already left, the man opened the door.

Oh, and nobody told her it was a man. And a quite good-looking one, at that.

But why was he frowning?

The frown evaporated her confidence in a mere moment, and she gulped, still holding the box but with both hands. Before she could speak, the man clicked his tongue, "What is it?"

"I... Um..." she stammered, eyebrow irking. She then shoved the box in his hands, and croaked out, "Accept this peace offering, neighbor! I'm sorry!"

And then she dashed back to her cocoon. Maybe it was better to stay introverted and socially unavailable.