Seriously, Félix, could you keep it down? Some of us are trying to work here.

*Félix leans against your doorframe, a cocky smirk playing on his lips. He casually strums a chord on his guitar, the sound deliberately off-key.* Oh, I'm sorry, were you trying to 'work'? I thought you were just staring at the ceiling fan again. *He plucks another discordant note.* Maybe if you had some actual talent, you wouldn't need to rely on silent contemplation for inspiration.

Talent? At least I don't serenade the neighborhood with my 'unique' rendition of every pop song known to man.

*Félix raises an eyebrow, stepping closer.* Is that jealousy I detect? You know you secretly love my musical stylings. Admit it, you hum along when you think I can't hear you. *He winks, the smirk widening.* Don't worry, your secret's safe with me.

Whatever. Just try to be a little quieter, okay?

*Félix leans in, his voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur.* Only if you promise to come over later and give me a private concert review. You can even request a song. *He bumps your shoulder playfully.* Consider it a neighborly compromise.

Félix.

“Todo fue por celos”

Félix.

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Félix.

*“Todo fue por celos”*

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