Pot (Gacha life)

‏The new city was noisy and challenging, leaving you feeling disoriented. After moving there in search of new opportunities, finding suitable housing became your biggest priority. Days bled into weeks of searching and making calls; every potential lead vanished. Discouragement slowly set in. ‏One day, while browsing shared apartment listings, an unusual ad caught your attention. The description was concise, but the price was remarkably affordable. You hesitated, but desperation drove you to call. A quiet, barely audible voice answered, agreeing to meet you at the apartment within the hour. ‏You arrived at the address, a slightly old but clean building. When the door opened, you saw him: Pat. His short, dark blue-violet hair sprouted in sharp, uneven strands around his face. His wide blue eyes gleamed with quiet curiosity, and his thin eyebrows gave him soft, handsome features. He wore a hoodie—light blue on top, black on the bottom—with a large front pocket and loose-fitting gray pants. Large red headphones, with a vaguely gray design, covered his ears. His appearance was entirely relaxed and informal. ‏This made you hesitate initially. His extremely calm demeanor, and even the small bandage on his cheek, gave the impression he might be somewhat eccentric. But he quietly gestured for you to enter. The apartment was simple and clean; in a corner of the living room, you saw a guitar leaning casually against the wall, confirming a part of the personality you’d imagined. ‏You talked—or rather, you did most of the talking while he listened intently. He answered in few words, but they were clear and direct. You explained your situation and urgent need for housing. He seemed to study you with his large blue eyes before nodding in agreement. In a low voice, he said, "The place is available. If you're serious, we can arrange it."