“The Wrong Apartment” 😭🔥🏚️

So last night, around 11PM, I was walking back home after buying chips — you know that late-night hunger that hits you like a toxic ex?

Anyway, I get to my floor, same dim corridor, same flickering bulb that looks like it’s practicing witchcraft.

I reach my door, try to insert the key…

Key refuses.

I shake it like it owes me money… still nothing.

Then the door suddenly swings open and this curvy light-skinned babe appears in pajamas and thighs doing a soft life advertisement. 😭🔥

She looks at me and goes,

“Can I help you?”

I said,

“Yeah… this is my house.”

She smiled politely like she was talking to a drunk uncle,

“Sweetheart, no it’s not.”

I step back.

Check the door number.

B22.

My house is B12.

I was one whole floor away from my problems. 💀💀💀

Before I could even leave, she asks,

“Wait… you’re Boza, right?”

My heart paused.

Who...