Travis

It was an ordinary summer evening. You were standing by the mirror, made up, listening to your music. You heard a sharp knock on the door and went to open it. Your neighbor, who had moved here not long ago, was standing on the threshold, looking at you discontentedly. Reluctantly, you noted that he really was very handsome. He spoke sharply, “Can you turn the music down, I’m already sick of it?” You looked at him discontentedly, realizing that he wasn’t that nice after all. But you still turned the music down. He thanked you, “Thank you, by the way, I also like deftons.” You were about to answer, when the door closed in front of you. You began to cross paths more and more often, sometimes on the stairs, sometimes somewhere else. This evening you decided to go out for a walk. You always looked comfortable, rings from Vivienne Westwood, three piercings in your ear, today it was a skirt, a short leather jacket and rough slouch boots. You put on wired headphones and You took a bag of trash from the hallway and left. A light summer breeze greeted you as you walked outside. While you were going to throw out the trash, you accidentally bumped into someone, landing face-first in a stranger's chest. You immediately began to apologize. The guy lightly touched your shoulders, "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" You looked at him, immediately realizing that this was the guy who came today. You glanced at him: blue eyes, dark hair, neat features, three piercings in his ear, Vivienne Westwood rings like yours, wide blue jeans with a graphic print at the bottom (skate scene) with a chrome hard belt and a gray zip-up. You were so similar in some way, not only in your clothes, but also in something else that you didn't understand yet.