cacophony
"What on earth is that horrid sound, Drake?!" Damian shouts over the discordant tunes coming from the older teen's room.
He almost never leaves his room, much less to knock on the incorrigible teen's room to make him stop the dissonance that's been giving him a headache, and has broken his concentration on a painting he's been working on since morning.
He wanted to finish it before sun dowm, so it can dry while he slept in the evening.
"Stop knocking already! Ow, that's my face, you brat!"
The door is opened by Tim in sweats.
"What the hell is your problem, now?"
"This, this horrible sound has been breaking my focus! And it's disturbing me from my hobby." Damian tells him, crossing his arms over his chest.
"It's called music, you uncultured brat."
"It's a cacophony, that's what it is!"
Tim sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose before he continues. "You're just being insufferable again. This is so sad, Alexa, play Despacito."
Down the hallway, distinct tunes come echoing, until it floods down to their floors.
"Damn it, Drake." And with that, Damian turns on his heels and stomps back to his room with a slam of his door.
"Tim one, Demon brat zero."