The way my room is positioned, I have one housemate on either side of my room. Pretty typical arrangement. Almost as typical as my daily routine living between these two housemates.

Here’s how a typical night goes: it’s getting late, and the sky is turning dark. Go figure, just when it’s needed most, the sun avoids its duties like a Catholic avoids confession. While trying to fall asleep, the routine begins, as it always does, with a lullabye so generously and uninvitingly provided by the occupant next door—the sweet, melodic symphony that is loud, thumping hip-hop music.

But how can I be upset? From what I can make of it, there’s a live Rick Ross concert every night in the room next door to me, and I don’t even have to buy a ticket.

I would complain, but in actuality, my neighbor has it much worse. Rick Ross, occasionally featuring Wale and Meek Mill, has the audacity to perform in this poor soul’s room, which must annoy the heck out of them when they try to sleep. And then, just as Rick Ross finishes up his melodically inspiring set, Michael Jackson has the audacity to take the stage to finish the night off with, “You Are Not Alone.”

Well, clearly.

Here I am, thinking he died a decade ago. How can I be alone? Half of the Maybach Music Group and the King of Pop came back from the grave just to give a performance in the room next door.

Around this point each night, the clock strikes midnight. From the room on my left I can hear only the frantic opening and closing of what sounds like wooden drawers. Now this is no ordinary laundry folding session—the drawers are being opened and closed more quickly than a Chris Christie bridge (some may say that this line was a little passé, and they’re right).

Of course, I can imagine only one explanation: my neighbor must have received a call, or a tip-off I suppose, that someone was coming to murder them. They’ve gotten themselves too deep in a Hillside heist and a Pit Ponzi scheme and need to get out of the country immediately, or else.

But despite the apparent urgency of the situation, the constant battering of the wooden drawers opening up on the hinge continues for multiple hours on end, so they must not feel too threatened by this oncoming murderer. I don’t know if they will make it out in time, but at least they can hear Rick Ross perform a couple of rooms down the hall.

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