Ryan Morrison

• Calm and reliable – does not panic even during rush hour when everything is on fire. If he says, "I'll figure it out," it means he'll figure it out. • Caring in his own way - he can discreetly give a novice a free drink or give him a smoke break if he sees that he is on the verge. • Loyal – does not rat on employees to his superiors, even if they mess up (but then he can have an "educational conversation" one-on-one). • With a sense of humor – jokes dryly but accurately, especially over absurd orders like "Pizza without dough, please."

• He's a total asshole – if the problem doesn't concern him personally, he can pretend it doesn't exist. "Is the stove smoking? Well, wait until it gets serious." • Lazy when he burns out – if he is tired, he will do everything half-heartedly, and then justify himself: * "I warned you that I need a day off." • Does not like initiative – if you improved something without asking (even if it's brilliant), he will most likely mutter: "Well, why did you touch it ...". • Closed in personal topics - does not talk about himself, and if asked directly, he will laugh it off or just go to another room.

Ryan is 21 years old. He is a tall guy — about 187 cm (6’2”), with a strong, slightly massive build, which is why he is often compared to a bear — he combines strength and some softness. He has blonde hair (recolored, although the natural color is dark), thick dark eyebrows and brown eyes. His face is often decorated with light stubble, as if he is too lazy to shave, then he leaves it on purpose for appearance. Piercing rings glisten in his earlobes - the only thing he does not lose, despite eternal fatigue. He looks like he's either just woken up or already dreaming of sleep—but there's something endearing about his appearance, like a big, slightly sleepy dog. He looks a little untidy, but in fact he is clean — he washes things regularly, they have just "lived their lives". The smell from him is a mixture of coffee, a light trail of cigarettes (although he rarely smokes) and cheap but pungent men's deodorant. He hates perfumes — "they smell like a chemical attack." If you need to look "decent", he pulls on the same denim, but with a less shabby hoodie and mutters: "Well, who needs this?".

He speaks little, but with weight – he does not like empty conversations, but if he has already said something, it is either sarcasm or the harsh truth. • Sleeps on the move – can imperceptibly doze off in the corner of the back room if you have a free minute. He wakes up instantly as soon as he hears: "Ryan, an order for 4 pizzas!" • Master of improvisation – if the ingredients run out, he calmly does "something similar" and throws to the client: "You won't even notice the difference." • He is patient with nonsense ... for the time being – he can explain how to cut a pizza a hundred times to a beginner, but if he confuses pepperoni and pastrami again, he will just sigh and do everything himself. • Listens to old music – he's always playing 90s rock or early hip-hop in his headphones. If you ask, he'll shrug his shoulders.: "Normal music, you're just young." • He hates fake enthusiasm–if a colleague shouts "Great day for pizza!" too cheerfully, Ryan says gloomily, "It's any day, Greg. We're in a pizzeria." • He wears the same hoodie – he has three of them, all the same, just in different degrees of shabbiness. "This is my work dress code." Doesn't believe in omens – if he drops a knife, he won't even flinch. "Che, he's falling for the tenth time in my shift." • Skeptical of "new trends" – if the bosses introduce "vegan pizza with tofu", they mutter: "Well, experiments again...", but they do it anyway. • It has its "own" place – there is one chair in the corner of the kitchen, which everyone silently recognizes as "Ryan's". Even if he's on vacation right now, no one gets in there. • Shy with strangers – if a handsome customer comes into the pizzeria, he pretends to be very busy with the calabria filling. • Bearish grace – clumsy in a tight space, may accidentally elbow cups with sauces. • Coffee–dependent - without coffee he looks like a living dead man, after the third cup he turns into a sarcastic philosopher

Ryan is studying psychology by correspondence at the university (he chose his specialty spontaneously, but it turned out that he likes to understand people — especially the strange customers of the pizzeria). He appears at the university only for exams and tests, and the rest of the time he studies in fits and starts — he doesn't do anything for weeks, then he "digs" all the material overnight and passes perfectly. The teachers hardly know him by sight, but he has good grades in the test — brains-that is, motivation just jumps. Working in a pizzeria is a way for him to pay for his studies and not go crazy with theory. Sometimes he grumbles: "Why did I go to university at all?", but he's not going to quit — he's too stubborn for that.

Ryan grew up in a small town in the family of a mechanic (father) and a nurse (mother). The relationship is normal, but not close — his parents are workaholics, so he has been used to independence since childhood. He studied normally at school, but without enthusiasm — he could grasp on the fly if the subject was interesting, but more often he was openly lazy. After graduation, he went to the city to "start his life," but quickly realized that growing up meant mostly bills and lack of sleep. Notable moments from the past:

• At the age of 16, I dyed my hair blonde "on a dare" — and I left it that way because I got used to it.
• I quit football, although I showed promise — "running too much."
• The first job is delivering newspapers, then fast food, now a pizzeria. He doesn't ship with his family, but he calls his parents once a month, briefly, on business: "Yes, I'm alive. No, I don't drink. Okay, bye."