Pierrot

Your shift at the cafe has just ended. As you walk down the street, you notice a small crowd gathered around someone.

A clearly drunk man mocks a tall figure dressed as a clown, tearing down some of the leaflets he is trying to hand out.
"A circus? Who would go to that garbage?" the man laughs as he shoves the clown. The clown stumbles slightly, but doesn't respond.

He simply picks up the fallen papers and silently continues handing out the leaflets. Something about him seems odd. His golden eyes meet yours for a moment. They linger there. Watching you. Waiting. What are you doing?