I rose from my bed angrily. The sun was shining through the window. "Why is it so noisy?" I said, rubbing my eyes as I went to the window. I looked out and saw trucks. New neighbors were moving in.

  "Great, more new people," I said with a sigh. "More like new problems."

  I turned away from the window and made my way towards the closet. Getting dressed was always a ritual I enjoyed. Opening the doors revealed rows of identical tuxedos, hung and waiting. "Tuxedo, tuxedo, tuxedo," I said sarcastically. "Damn, what am I wearing today?"

  It was true, my entire collection consisted of tuxedos. Black tuxedo jackets, matching black pants, and rows of black shoes filled the closet. Occasionally, I'd add a top hat, and my dark sunglasses completed the ensemble. It was my signature look, appropriate for every occasion, or so I convinced myself. "Why only tuxedos?" I asked myself. The answer lays buried in memories of my older brother, who had left us ten years ago. I could still remember my mother's voice that traumatic day, calling out his name, but I tried to push those thoughts aside. He always wore them, but not every day. My brother's fashion choices had been influenced by our grandfather. Our grandpa had adored tuxedos, wearing them proudly at any event.

  "Your grandpa was a charming man," Grandma used to tell me. "He loved his tuxedos."

  I missed those conversations with Grandma. They were a link to a past I barely remembered, a past where my brother and I were closer. Now, memories of him were evaporating, like water left in the sun. Choosing a tuxedo at random, I put it on, and went downstairs.

  I went to the bathroom like I always do. I looked in the mirror and was happy to be alive another day. I brushed my black, spiky hair for three minutes. Then I brushed my teeth. After that, I put on some perfume that my mom used to like. It smelled nice and made me think of the good and bad times when I was a little kid. I closed my eyes, wishing I could go back, but knowing some memories are better left alone. I left the bathroom and got my glasses from the kitchen table. I put them on, shielding my eyes from the world like always. I made myself a bowl of cereal with milk for breakfast. I could hear the new neighbors moving in outside. It was noisier than usual. After filling my bowl and making sure that I poured cereals before the milk, I put the bowl on the kitchen table and sat down, ready to have my usual everyday breakfast. Do I ever get bored of this? No, I like it. Maybe one day I'll eat something different too, but not today. I ate while listening to the talking outside. It was annoying yet, interesting.

  When I finished eating, I washed my bowl. Why am I doing chores in a suit? Can't I put it on later? No, I like wearing it. It's part of who I am. I went to the living room by the front door. I have a couch, my computer and a TV there. It's a good life. I sat on the couch and turned on the TV to find something interesting. The news was on, talking about local and world events. I half listened while thinking about the new neighbors. What were they like? Were they as loud as they sounded? Maybe I should say hello later, but that made me a bit nervous. After a while, I looked at the clock. It was 8 AM. Only 30 minutes had passed since I woke up. Am I impatient? No, just human. I turned off the TV and got up. The noise outside was getting annoying. I fixed my clothes then went to the front door. I tried to smile, but my hand shook a little on the doorknob. I took a deep breath, let it out, and opened the door. I was suddenly greeted by the warmth of the sun on my skin. "What the hell is all this?" I said quietly, blinking at the unexpectedly chaotic scene before me. "Why are there so many trucks?" They hadn't seemed so numerous when I looked out the window earlier. I sighed, and began to survey my surroundings.

  On my right was Mr. Fritz. He has messy brown hair and looks tired. He was wearing his usual brown shirt, blue pants, and black shoes. Usual? I haven't seen him in a week. Why am I describing him? I just like to; it helps me remember who I'm looking at. He was working in his garden, looking happy with his morning routine. Good for him, I thought.

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  On my left were lots of trucks and workers doing things I didn't care about. But right in front of me was something new: a fancy car parked by the road, with lots of workers fixing up a house. I remembered when I first moved here, that house was empty. Now it looked very different, looks like someone put a lot of money into it.

  I took another deep breath and started walking towards the house to look closer. I said "Good morning!" to Mr. Fritz as I passed. He waved and smiled back, and I felt better that he didn't try to talk more. As I walked to the house, a tall lady suddenly stood in front of me. She had red hair and was wearing a red jacket and black pants. She looked like a businesswoman, maybe in her mid-20s. I didn't know her, but she reminded me of my brother. Maybe because I haven't talked to people in a while. No, that's not true, I thought. I just talked to Mr. Fritz, and I saw other people yesterday. Maybe I'm not as shy as I think. She extended her hand and introduced herself. "Good morning, Sir! I'm Lora, the chief director of this renovation."

  Sir? Did she just call me Sir? I chuckled, not used to such formality. "Hello, good morning, I'm Danilo!" I responded; a bit embarrassed by her unexpected appearance.

  Lora started talking a lot about the house fixing, telling me many details and information. Amidst the details, one caught my attention. "Mr. Khanilo bought this house," she said, "and he's also building new hospitals and schools around here."

  Mr. Khanilo? That name sounded strange to me. Who was he? Why did his name sound so similar to mine? Was it just by chance? I tried not to look confused. I nodded and smiled while Lora kept talking. Inside, I was thinking hard, trying to understand this weird coincidence. For the rest of our talk, which felt like a one-sided monologue, I kept thinking about this Mr. Khanilo and how his name resembled mine. It bothered me. Why did he have to choose a name so close to mine!

  "And that's how it will be. What do you think, Danilo?" Lora asked, making me pay attention again.

  "It's going to be such a great project, yeah!" I said, trying to sound excited while feeling more and more uncomfortable.

  Lora looked at me quickly, with a strange look, before walking away. Did she look annoyed? Disappointed? I couldn't tell, but I felt like I said something wrong. I felt better when she left, wiping my forehead. At least the one-sided talk was over. I looked back at the house being fixed up and thought. Why did I care? I never cared about my neighbors before. But this time, there seemed to be a reason, a weird connection with this Khanilo, whoever he was, and the changes he was bringing to our neighborhood. Then I looked at his car. It was a white... long fancy car?! Wait, that's another car... Oh, it just arrived! I stood there, amazed by how fancy it all was. Soon, all my neighbors gathered too, wanting to see the new person. I could feel them near me, but I didn't want them to touch me. After what felt like forever, a man in a nice suit, clearly a bodyguard, got out of the car and opened the door. Out came a young man with spiky white hair, dressed all in white suit, pants, shoes, glasses, and even a white hat. Wait a minute... He's dressed exactly opposite to me. Who does he think he is? Why? How? What?! I had so many questions as I watched him get out and look right at me, then smile in a mean way. He thanked the crowd that had gathered, who cheered for him for reasons I didn't understand. I already disliked this guy. He started walking to the house but stopped to talk to Lora. Every time he turned to wave at the crowd, he returned their cheers happily, ignoring only me. What a selfish guy. I wondered what he was up to. Finally, after lots of clapping and happiness, he got back in his car with his bodyguard and left the neighborhood in a big show. It was all so dramatic, almost funny in how big it was. I couldn't help but think: what was he planning?

  After he left, I could hear the neighbors talking and shouting. "He's so handsome!" "He's so rich!" "Who's this guy?! He's so nice!" I laughed. Really? I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I couldn't stand the praise anymore, so I hurried back home and locked the door behind me. I quickly closed all the curtains in the house, shutting out the outside world. I needed to block out their voices, their opinions. Sitting down at my desk with my computer in front of me, I thought hard about what to do next. Suddenly, I had an idea. I had to find more information about this Khanilo guy. "I don't like that name," I said to myself. I opened up my computer, ready to search the internet to find out more about that arrogant man.