Karl falls into bed without even removing his clothes and is immediately asleep. Saturday. A day to be sad.
Karl wakes up, and the rush of emotion overtakes him again, and he begins to sob. His one love is gone forever because he was just so stupid. If he had told her he would be working with Vicky at home, none of this would have happened. If they had worked at the office, everything would have been fine. How did I not realize what a mistake meeting here was?
When Lisa walked in, Karl was just showing Vicky a picture on his phone of the engagement ring he had designed. With his and Vicky’s heads close together, looking at the small screen, Karl knew that it must have looked like they were almost cuddling to Lisa. Now, his plan to propose at the end of the half-marathon, or ever, was gone.
Eventually, Karl gets up and walks to the kitchen. He does not even notice that Lisa’s spilled groceries are gone and the kitchen is clean. If he had noticed, he would have realized that either Vicky cleaned up before she left or someone else came in and cleaned. As he makes coffee, he spots a note on the TV.
This one is from Vicky in her loopy feminine script. It reads: So sorry things got messed up. I know you love Lisa and hope that us being together here does not cause a major problem. We should have gone to my place instead. Let me know if I can do anything for you. I mean that. Vicky G.
Karl finishes his coffee, takes a shower, and shaves. He almost did not bother shaving, but his coarse beard irritated his face if he went more than a couple of days without a close shave.
Looking in the mirror, he starts to talk to himself, I have to clear my head. I have to find a way to get to Lisa and explain what happened. Even if she does not believe me, I have to try.
While Karl is staring at the mirror, this is what he sees. Karl is twenty-one years old, stands five feet ten inches tall, and weighs one hundred seventy-five pounds. He is in good shape with a swimmer’s body: broad shoulders, narrow waist and hips, and trim stomach.
His legs are long and lean with muscles that come from years of exercising, particularly bicycling and ocean swimming. His arms show that his work with the resort crew requires him to do some lifting.
While his face is not chiseled, it is a strong face with a square jaw. His hair is very dark brown with a few light areas from being outside in the Florida sun, and is cut short in a business-appropriate style. Karl’s eyes are also brown, and his complexion, though normally fairly light, does have the ability to tan. Karl wears a size eleven shoe. Though he does not yet know it, this description will not stay the same as the days go by.
The rest of the morning, he spends partly in mourning and partly thinking about what to do. He does not eat breakfast or lunch. Finally, he calls his dad and explains what happened. He has to talk to someone. His father listens and offers to do what he can.
However, secretly, Karl’s dad is glad this has happened. During that week, Karl and Lisa broke up after the bistro scene; he and his dad spoke several times. Through these conversations, his dad finally figured out what he did not like about Lisa: she is possessive. It reminds him of his ex-wife, and he did not want Karl to go through the pain of having an obsessive and possessive wife. Karl would be OK eventually. This is for the best.
Mid-afternoon, Karl gets a text from Vicky asking if he and Lisa got things straight. Karl simply texts back three words: No. It is over. Vicky then tries to call, but he does not want to talk to her. What happened is his fault, but he does feel like Vicky is somewhat to blame, too. He knows it is not fair to think that, and so does not want to talk to her for fear he might say something he would regret.
The rest of the day passes lying on the couch with the TV on, but being ignored. Seeing the recap from the UF baseball game from the previous night, Karl almost retches again. UF won the game, but who cares? He lost his girlfriend over a baseball game on TV. How stupidly sad is that?
Dinner time passes, and Karl still does not eat. Eventually, he crawls back in bed and is immediately asleep. Around midnight, he hears a loud crack that sounds like thunder even though there is no rain forecast. Turning over, he eventually falls back to sleep.
Change one: Sunday. A blonde moment.
Karl awakened Sunday morning starving. Even though he was still profoundly sad, his first thought was getting something to eat since he had not eaten since Friday at lunch. Rolling out of bed, he goes to the kitchen and makes a peanut butter sandwich and a pot of coffee. After the sandwich, he has some fruit and a bowl of cereal. He is not full, but it will do for a start.
After breakfast, Karl walks into the bathroom to pee and to get a shower. The first of those jobs done, he steps in front of his bathroom mirror and almost faints. His normally dark brown hair is completely blond, almost a bleached blond color. How did this happen?
Confused and momentarily distracted from thoughts of Lisa, he walks back into the den and says, Alexa, can someone’s hair color change on its own? The little blue light spins on top of the Echo assistant, and the feminine voice responds, There have been cases where someone’s hair changed color or even fell out after facing a particularly stressful situation.
OK, that explains it. I guess the thought of losing Lisa has sent me over the edge.
Karl gets in the shower, not noticing that his beard, chest, legs, arms, and hair around his cock have also turned blond and that the hair is finer than it used to be. He reaches for his shampoo and does notice that the bottle is different.
It is a shampoo called Just for Blondes. Puzzled, he wonders if this was one Lisa bought, even though her hair is not naturally blonde. Who knows. Shampoo is shampoo. Karl finishes his shower and gets dressed for the day.
Mid-morning, he gets another text from Vicky. She apologizes again for Friday, but also says they still had a couple of things to finish from their aborted Friday work session, and wonders if they can meet at the office for a little while so they will be ready to update the Frankels on Monday.
Karl does not want to go in, but knows he has to. He texts Vicky back and says, Sure, I will meet you at one thirty pm at the office. Moments later, she sends a thumbs-up emoji.
After getting dressed, Karl decides he needs to do something physical to clear his mind and decides to ride his road bike the six miles to the office. He puts on his riding shorts, shoes, cycle jersey, and helmet, and with his laptop and notes in a backpack, heads out to his assigned apartment storage unit. He retrieves his sleek Pinarello Prince Ultegra and heads to the office.
He saved money all year while working in the bike shop to buy the two thousand dollar black on black special edition Italian beauty. It has been his pride and joy and he chose to ride it that day because he knew it would relax him. Upon arriving at the office at one twenty, he sees Vicky is already there. He hops off the bike and walks into the conference room.
Vicky starts to say again how sorry she is about Friday, but stops in mid-sentence as Karl removes his helmet, revealing his now white blond hair. Vicky asks, What did you do to your hair, Karl?
Karl responds with a shrug, saying nothing. I just woke up this morning, and it was blond. I did a little research, and I guess this can happen to some people in really stressful situations.
Vicky says, Yeah, I have heard of that, but I have never seen it before. Man, you must really be devastated over Lisa.
Karl starts to well up with tears, and, seeing his reaction, Vicky walks over and gives him a big hug. Even in his state, he cannot help but notice her large breasts pressing against his stomach. She eventually releases him and takes a step back, saying, Well, it does not look bad on you. I see you bleached your eyebrows to match.
Karl starts to say that he had not bleached anything, but decides there is no point and instead suggests they get down to work. After a couple of hours, Vicky has what she needs, and they finish the meeting. Vicky offers to take Karl for an early dinner, but he is in no mood and, given his luck, figures they would run into Lisa or Jeannie. He thanks her and heads home to another sad night.
Vicky thinks to herself, I do feel bad for what happened, but Karl is a good-looking and sweet guy. Maybe I should be the close confidant and see how things go in a few months.
Arriving at home again, there is a box sitting by his door. Inside are the things he kept at Lisa and Jeannie’s apartment, and also the necklace he had given Jeannie after their reconciliation. Even though this seemed like a final kind of symbolic statement from Lisa, he still was not going to give up.
After eating a bad frozen pizza dinner, Karl starts going through his phone trying to figure out who he and Lisa both know that might be willing to get a message to her. There are two people in his contacts that he believes would trust him enough to take a message. He would have to work on that tomorrow.
Around eleven pm, Karl heads for bed. Surprisingly, he again immediately falls asleep. Around midnight, he hears another loud clap of thunder. It is raining this time, so he thinks nothing of it and goes right back to sleep.
Change two: Monday. A high sales pitch.
Karl awakens to his alarm at seven am. He has slept pretty well, though he did have some strange dreams that are right on the edge of his memory, but just out of reach.
Getting out of bed, he puts on his running shorts and shoes and heads down to the fitness room for a treadmill run. It is speed intervals today, and though he normally prefers to run outside, it is just easier to run these intervals on a treadmill. Even though his reason for race training was seemingly gone, he still decided to train. He thinks hopefully that maybe we can reconnect if she runs the race.
Passing his neighbor, Fred, Karl says, Hi, sugar pie. Except that what came out was not his voice, and where did the sugar pie come from? He clears his throat and tries again, but it still does not sound right. Instead of his normal baritone voice, the sound coming out of his mouth is more of a sultry soprano. Fred laughs at him and says, Nice voice, there, miss.
He thinks Karl is trying to be funny and goes along with the joke. Karl says nothing more, but once out of hearing starts talking again.
Not only does his voice sound like a woman’s voice, but it also sounds a little seductive with a hint of southern drawl. Karl clears his throat several times, but no matter how hard he tries to lower it, the voice comes out like... who does it sound like? Then it dawns on Karl.
His voice kind of sounds like that Mandy girl from the bistro. Shaking his head, he silently rationalizes, It must be a touch of laryngitis or something. I guess this stress over Lisa is causing all kinds of issues.
Karl does not say anything during his run or while getting ready for work afterwards. It is not until he is in his gray Jeep on the way to work a bit later that he hears the voice again. This time, though, it is while singing along to a Britney Spears song Hit Me Baby, One More Time.
He thinks, OK, I gotta be careful. I do not want to strain my voice by talking in this pitch. I will not say any more than I have to at work. I guess the crew will be getting written instructions today.
Arriving at work, he heads to his office to get organized for the day. Vicky walks by and thanks him for coming in on Sunday. He responds, You are most welcome, hun and, for the second time in as many days, Vicky stops dead in her tracks and stares at Karl.
Vicky asks, looking concerned, What is wrong with your voice? And did you just call me hun?
Karl looks aghast and says, I guess I have a touch of laryngitis or something. Sorry for the hun thing, too. Do not know where that came from.
Vicky says, Well, it is okay. We are friends, but you need to get that throat checked out. That does not seem like it is just laryngitis.
Karl reluctantly responds, I will. Thanks. Oh, and I appreciate you being so supportive about my suddenly blond hair yesterday.
Again looking confused, she says, What do you mean? Your hair has been dyed blond as long as I have known you. Yesterday I was just trying to get you to grow it out longer since I know it would be quite attractive.
Now it is Karl’s turn to look surprised as his hair has never been blond and he does not remember her encouraging him to grow it longer. However, given his voice and overall confusion, he decides to let this drop, too.
Vicky reminds him, See you in the conference room in ten minutes to go over our marketing plan with the boss.
Oh, yeah, he thinks. He calls out as she is walking away, Hey, Vicky, can you do most of the talking, sweetie? She turns around and asks, Are you OK? Something just seems off about you today, and it is not just the voice. At this point, Karl is afraid to even open his mouth. So, he just nods and gives the OK sign with his fingers.
Vicky says, Yes, I believe it would be better if I did the talking. See you in there.
The meeting goes well with Vicky leading the presentation and Karl remaining silent and doing lots of nodding. She covers the plans for a new series of videos with voice-overs showing some of their clients and explaining the company’s capabilities. The Frankels seem pleased.
When they get to the point where Karl was planning to present, Vicky looks at him, and he gives a consenting head shake. She knew what he was going to say in his part of the presentation and continued with the PowerPoint. The Frankels do look at him once or twice, wondering why he is not discussing these slides, but figure they worked this out ahead of time.
On the second-to-last slide, Vicky gives a financial number that Karl knows to be wrong. She repeats the error, and Karl concludes he has to jump in. Reluctantly, he says, Vicky, sugar lump, I think you added a digit to that figure. The Frankels whip around, convinced Karl is mocking Vicky. Before George says anything, Karl flushes bright red and says, Wait, sorry. I have laryngitis.
That is why Vicky was presenting my part. Vicky corroborates Karl’s contention and also apologizes, this time for the bad figure. George is not quite convinced, but trusts both Karl and Vicky and lets it go. Cindy Frankel, though, is still a little more skeptical of this whole thing and asks Karl to wait around once the meeting wraps up.
Cindy asks, Are you OK, Karl? Karl nods and holds up his arms in the universal sign of an apology, and then gives two thumbs up. She touches Karl’s arm and asks if he can handle the crew that day or if they should get Tank, the crew team leads, to take them out.
Karl waves her off and then picks up his notepad. He writes a note in his doctor's like left-handed scrawl saying, It will be alright. I will use texts and written notes to give their instructions. It was not going to be a heavy day for the crew, and Karl needed the distraction from thinking about Lisa, anyway. Cindy reluctantly nods, and they leave the meeting with her watching him suspiciously as he heads down the hall.
The rest of Karl’s day actually goes pretty well. The texts and notes idea works. In fact, having written instructions probably prevented a mistake with pool chemicals at one condo complex. There was only one incident that almost proved embarrassing.
While at that same condo pool, Tank, the team lead, was walking away, and Karl needed to get his attention. Not thinking, Karl called out in a sing-song voice Yoo hoo, Tank. Tank turned around, thinking some babe by the pool had called him. Karl blushed, but let Tank think that and, while he was turned his way, waved Tank over.
After the day was over, Tank asked his blond-haired coworker if he wanted to get a beer after work. He could tell Karl was not himself and, as a close friend as well as co-worker (Karl had gotten him the job as team lead), wanted to find out what was wrong. Tank knew Lisa, of course, and about the bistro incident, and wondered if something new had happened.
Karl shook his head no and then put his hand out to shake Tank’s hand in a gesture of thanks. Though Karl had planned to go back to the office to see if any new jobs had come in for the next day, he decided he wanted to just head home.
On the way home, Karl decides to go through a fast-food drive-through to get a salad. He pulls up to the speaker and says, I would like the summer mix salad with pecans, please. Midway through that sentence, Karl realizes what he sounds like, but just keeps talking.
The cheerful high school drive-through attendant replies, Yes, ma’am. Will there be anything else? Karl replies, No, honey, and, for the umpteenth time that day, blushes. He thinks, Dammit! What is wrong with me?
He pulls up to the window. The red headed girl in the fast food uniform walks up and looks down at him confused. She asks, Did you order, sir? He nods and tries to mime salad and finally points at the bag sitting just inside the window.
The girl says, That is not yours. Finally, resigned, he says, That is the summer mix salad, is it not? Shocked, the girl nods, takes his credit card, and then hands him the salad. As he is driving away, he looks back to see the girl and another female co-worker hanging out the drive-through window, gawking at him.
Shaking his head, he thinks, What a weird day. He turns on the radio and, within minutes, again finds himself singing along to a female singer. This time it is Taylor singing Shake It Off. He thinks I never sing in the car or anywhere. Maybe I need to see a therapist. I am losing my mind.
Instead of heading home, he decides that he needs to get his voice issue checked. Karl thinks about going to the ER, but decides instead to go to an urgent care doc in a box near his apartment. Eating his salad in the car before going in, he brings a pen and pad with him to try to avoid further embarrassment. Walking up to the receptionist, he writes a note explaining his problem and then hands her his insurance card. She takes the info and asks him to sit.
After about fifteen minutes, he is called back and taken to an exam room. Another twenty minutes waiting in the room and an attractive female physician steps in. She says, I am Doctor Bondi. I see Mr. Simmons that you think you have laryngitis. Can I look in your throat? Karl opens his mouth wide and she checks his throat and then feels around his neck. She asks, Have you had a cold or any respiratory issues? Karl shakes his head. She asks, Have you been exposed to any chemicals at work? Karl thinks about pool chlorine, but decides he has not been any more exposed than normal, so shakes his head no. She continues asking questions with Karl responding to each with a nod or head shake. Finally, she says, I do not know what to tell you. Your throat and larynx appear normal and I detect no swelling in your glands. You do have an unusually small Adam’s apple and voice box, but that would have been the same since puberty. Can you say something for me?
Karl reports, This just started this morning, doc. I was fine yesterday. Doctor Bondi looks taken aback. She asks, Are you trying to talk in that register? Karl again shakes his head. She says, The size of your Adam’s apple and voice box, as I said, is small. They are in line with what I would expect in a woman, as is your voice. If you were not reporting this as new, I would say your voice has always sounded this way. Karl shakes his head vigorously. He says, No, ma’am, this is new.
The doctor continued, Well, I do not know what to suggest, Mr. Simmons. I do not see anything anatomically wrong, though I do admit your voice is very high for a male. In fact, if I am not mistaken, your voice is higher than mine. Do you have any recordings with your voice prior to this? Karl thinks about it and realizes that his voicemail greeting on his cell phone was recorded in his voice. He picks up his phone and opens up his voice mail. Karl puts the phone on speaker and plays the greeting. Hello, this is Karl with Fortis Resort Services, leave your sweet message after the beep, and I will call you right back. Thank you. Karl’s face drains to completely white. That was not his voice! That was not his greeting at all! It was made in this same southern belle drawl!
The doctor looks at him with a scowl and says, You wasted my time with this visit, Mr. Simmons. If this is your idea of a joke, then let me tell you that it is not funny. Karl looked confused and mortified at what had happened the last few seconds. He did not know how to react. She continued slightly raising her tone, Now, do you have any real medical issues or can I get back to patients who actually need my help?
Karl had planned to bring up his sudden hair color change, but decided there was no point. Whatever had happened to him these last couple of days, it was going to be on him to figure it out.
Dr. Bondi opened the door and pointed him toward the exit. Karl left the exam room and went to pay for the visit. As he approached the checkout account person, she asked what he needed. He handed her his insurance card and waited. She punched in his info and then said, Sir, are you here to see the doctor? If so, you will need to see the receptionist first to get checked in. He was, once again, confused. He wrote a note saying he had already seen Dr. Bondi. The accounts clerk looked at the quickly scrawled note and said, I cannot read this word. He grabbed his pen and rewrote the word Bondi. She keyed in a few more things but then said, I do not have any record of that. Give me just a moment. She got up and caught Dr. Bondi before she entered an exam room. After a brief conversation with an arm pointing at Karl, the accounts clerk returns to him and says, Are you sure, sir? Dr. Bondi did not recognize you as a patient.
Now becoming scared, Karl turns and walks out. Something was going on that was far from normal. Either that, or he was truly losing his mind.
Driving home in silence, not even daring to turn on the radio, he goes into his apartment and crashes on the couch.
It seemed all Karl did lately was think about what was going wrong. His brain was becoming consumed with Lisa, his hair, his voice, and all of the other weird things happening. Turning the TV on again, he could not focus and, instead, just decided to go to bed. Falling asleep almost immediately, he was awakened once more by a loud crack sometime around midnight. This time, he sat up in bed and looked around. For a brief moment, Karl thought he saw movement in the room. He got up and turned on the light, but there was nothing.
Change three: Tuesday. Talking with your hands.
After a fairly restful night, Karl awakened to the sound of a notification on his phone. Reaching over to pick it up, he sees a text message from Vicky. It reads Hey, when you get to the studio, ask for Rachel. She will get you set up with the engineer. Make sure you stick to the script. As much as I love your southern expressions, they are not right for these recordings.
It was becoming so normal for Karl to be confused these days, he almost just accepted that this did not make sense without a second thought. However, it was from Vicky, and he needed to look into what this crazy message meant. Opening up his laptop to email her, a calendar entry popped up that he did not remember seeing. It read voice-overs at Sounds Right Studios. Details to follow. The calendar showed this to go from nine am to noon today. Looking through his emails, he found he had received and accepted this calendar appointment invitation last week, and attached was a PDF file called VO Scripts.
Opening the PDF, he saw these were the voice-overs for the promos discussed in the meetings with the Frankels yesterday. But why was he doing them? How could he do voice-overs with his current voice? It did not make sense, a thought that was quickly becoming his mantra.
Rather than emailing Vicky, he decided to text her. He wrote Are you sure you want me to do these voice-overs? My voice is not good for this. The three flashing dots indicated Vicky was responding and, in a few seconds, she responded with Of course, your voice is right. It is perfect! We discussed this yesterday, and you seemed happy to do it. You have the perfect combination of sweetness, sexiness, and professionalism in that cute voice of yours. What is wrong? Just stick to the scripts and you will be fine. Call me if you still are unsure. Tank said to tell you he had the morning covered.
It seemed like every new piece of info Karl received just sent him in another confusing direction. If nothing else, he was getting good at reacting, or not reacting, to new craziness. Well, he still had three hours till his appointment and needed to get moving. He got dressed in his running clothes and decided to get outside today. It was a ten mile easy run on the schedule. Setting out, he was a little ahead of the nine minute nine second pace required for the half marathon and, despite all else going wrong, Karl felt great. He finished his run and went inside to get cleaned up.
Karl’s first stop was at the mirror. He noticed that his shaggy blond hair still looked good, but his brown roots were starting to show. Looking at his watch, he decided he had just enough time to do the root touch up and still make his appointment. Grabbing the bleach solution and neutralizer, he went to work. Keeping his hair bleached blond was something of a pain, but he loved it. Lisa did, too. Finishing with his hair, he got his shower and dressed for work with a few minutes to spare. Karl guessed he would be joining the crew for the afternoon, so he wore his normal work clothes. He grabbed a bagel and a K-cup of coffee and was out the door.
Arriving at the studio, he walked up with his notepad. He knew he would eventually have to use his current voice, but wanted to get as far into the process as possible. So, he wrote a note asking for Rachel and explaining he was saving his voice. Not noticing until after he had finished the note, to his surprise, again he instinctively wrote the note with his right hand.
But Karl was left-handed. Additionally, his handwriting was not the ragged scrawl he normally wrote with, but a very neat and feminine-looking cursive. He even dotted letters with an open circle. Karl was not trying to write this way, but it was natural. He changed to the pen in his left hand but found he could no longer write with it. He could move his arm to make crude letters, but the result was even worse than his old chicken scratch.
Handing the note to the receptionist, she said, Oh, you have such beautiful handwriting. Then, looking up at the expression on Karl’s face, she added, for a guy. Just have a seat, and I will get Rachel.
Karl took a seat and then looked at his hands and the pen he still held in his left hand. He had not noticed, but the pen had purple ink.
Rachel came out to get him a minute later, introduced herself, and then said, I will be the final production agent for these commercials. I am responsible for the video editing, sound, and vocals.
By the way, I love that hair color and style. Karl touched his hair and then nodded with a smile. He followed her into the building. Led into the recording studio, Karl met Steve, the technician, a typical nerdy guy with a ponytail and pot belly.
He told Karl to go into the sound booth and review the scripts on the lectern under the microphone. Rachel stayed in the studio control room with Steve.
Steve instructed, OK, let us take some samples to get the sound levels before we start. Read the first paragraph. Karl hesitated, guessing what Steve and Rachel’s reaction would be, and started reading in his distinctly different voice: Fortis Resort Services, a locally owned company started in two thousand two by Fortis Beach native George Frankel, is your one-stop provider for everything your property needs... Karl was right about Steve’s reaction, but Rachel did not seem surprised. Steve stopped him and said, Um, I was not expecting your delivery, and I am going to have to adjust things a bit more. Karl responded, That is okay, sweet pea. Just let me know. He thought, Sweet pea! What the hell.
A few minutes later, Karl was back reading the copy. Except for a couple of inappropriately inserted y’alls and one darlin, Karl did very well reading the scripts. Only a few re takes were required in the two hour session and they finished a little after eleven am. As Rachel was escorting him back out to the lobby, she turned to Karl and said, You really do have a beautiful voice. Would you consider doing some other voice work for us? Not knowing what to think, Karl said, I do not know, hun, but I will sure enough think about it. Rachel smiled, shook his hand, and out Karl went to his Jeep.
He grumbled as he started up to leave, Hun? Sure enough? I have never used those phrases before in my life! My brain is not connected to my mouth anymore. Karl texted Tank to see where they were working and reluctantly started toward the job site. He had done fine with writing notes yesterday, but with his new handwriting, he was not sure that would work now.
His options were down to talking like a woman or writing like one, not much of a choice. In fact, he thought about whether to just take the rest of the day off. Tank could probably cover for him, and the whole studio thing had been pretty draining.
He pulled over and texted Mr. Frankel and Tank, asking how things stood and saying he was not feeling well. They both said it was OK to go home and things were covered. Mr. Frankel thanked him for being a trooper and making the voice over session. Relieved but a little perplexed with the comment, he then turned to wondering what he could do with his afternoon.
Lisa had not been in the front of his mind these last couple of days, but he was beginning to believe that these weird happenings were somehow related to their breakup. Karl was not far from Lisa and Jeannie’s apartment, so he decided to take a chance and swing by. Part of him thought it was a bad idea, but he had felt so little control over his life these last few days that this was, at least, a willful action he could take.
Arriving at the apartment complex, Lisa’s truck was parked in her normal spot. Karl’s heart fluttered. He pulled into a visitor’s parking space and turned off his SUV. What should he do? This was dangerous. If he got it wrong, it could be the final nail in their relationship coffin. On the other hand, this might be his only chance to catch her at home, and without Jeannie there. Taking a deep breath, he wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and knocked on the apartment door.