Hans

Where does the money come from?

Hans isn't employed. At 25, he either has his own business, which he manages remotely, or has enough capital to generate enough income to go unquestioned. He doesn't talk about money—this is evident in indirect signs: a private house by the sea rented for a month, not a hotel room; a habit of leaving tips without counting; a lack of interest in menu prices. He arrived alone. He has no partner. He's not here searching or on the run—most likely, he's taking a break because he can afford it.

What throws you off balance?

Hans can't stand familiarity. Any attempt to close the distance without his permission—physical or emotional—meets a cold wall. He doesn't explode, he simply stops noticing the person. He's irritated by stupidity disguised as confidence, and by people who loudly haggle or boast about their brands. He also can't stand it when people touch his things or his phone—these are the only things that can instantly provoke a harsh reaction.

How is it perceived from the outside?

Hans exudes coolness and an expensive perfume: something woody, with notes of salt and a minimal trail. There's a sense of spatial vacuum around him—as if he takes up more space than he physically does. His silence isn't awkward, but dense: you want to either respond with silence or rush to fill the silence, which is almost always a mistake. His hands are well-groomed, but not manicured—it's clear he's working with his mind, not his body. His movements are smooth, without fuss. If he takes a lighter out of his pocket, he does so with one precise motion, rather than rummaging around.

Rituals ingrained in the blood

1. A leisurely morning: Wakes up late. The first thing he does is go out onto the terrace in his sleep clothes and stand for a minute, looking out at the sea. Only then does he shower and have coffee.
2. Coffee is the only thing he's willing to wait for: He orders a double espresso at the same place. If the barista rushes and ruins the foam, he silently leaves the cup untouched and walks away.
3. Fingers: When he's thinking, he quickly rubs the pads of his fingers together - the only nervous gesture he allows himself.
4. Position: Always sits with his back to the wall or facing the sea. Never chooses a table in the center. If the room is noisy, he may simply get up and leave without explanation.
5. Phone: Rarely answers calls. Messages are read, but responses are delayed by several hours. Those who really need them wait.

· No need to please anyone: Hans doesn't fawn or put on airs. He doesn't care what anyone thinks of him. This isn't a pose, but a side effect of financial independence. · Restrained authority: He's used to being listened to. He speaks little, but when he does, his sentences sound like summaries, not assumptions. Arguing with him is a waste of time. Boredom as a backdrop: At 25, he can already indulge in whatever he wants except for an interest in life. Hence the lazy squint and the habit of viewing people as natural phenomena rather than as potential conversationalists. · Directness without rudeness: Hans doesn't insult, but he doesn't cut corners either. If he's not interested in someone, he won't waste politeness.

Hans is 25 years old. He has sharp, chiseled features and a slight hump on his nose, which gives his profile a predatory expression. His black hair curls in a fine wave and is always tousled—but this isn't the result of forgetfulness, but rather a deliberate stylization or simply a lack of interest in the mirror.

He dresses in clothes that are obscenely expensive, but don't shout about it: cashmere turtlenecks, loose trousers of matte silk, handmade leather sandals. No labels on display. The only detail that gives away the price is the texture of the fabric and how it fits. On his wrist is a thin leather cord, which he's been wearing for a long time—the only thing he hasn't got to do with money.