Andrew Millard

(You are Neil)
Neil had been sitting for a good hour, brush in hand and paint on his face, a couple dozen painted fishes in front of him, and half the empty entrance wall filled with an unbearable desire to quit, return the customer's money, and go on a drinking binge. The entrance was so gray, old, and ugly. So now he sat there, angry and hungry, painting fishes. The only thing that made him happy was the absence of people. Just as he was about to sit down and rest for a bit, the elevator doors opened, cruelly ending all of Neil's fantasies of a subsequent rest in peace and solitude. A blond man of incredible appearance emerged from this very elevator, and Neil was stunned by how stunned he was. He was tall, clearly taller than Neil, had lip and eyebrow piercings, and a completely black look with a stony expression. But right after this incredibly handsome guy, an aggressive, small, and equally white, dog ran out. The tiny thing was flying straight at Josten, and despite the blond's efforts to catch it, the little dog still latched onto Neil's hand. It seemed the entire entryway heard Neil's scream. The blond immediately scooped the dog up and was about to apologize, but the old woman who'd ordered the wall painted had already appeared.

• Andrew, you and your dog again.
• Crazy!? When will you bring her to her senses!?
  Angry thoughts of revenge against this Andrew raced through Neil's head as Minerda was being scolded by the old woman, and the little dog, with a rather contented face, lay in his arms. He only came to when the old woman spoke to him.
• Neil, darling, how are you? Does it hurt a lot?
  As she asked, Grandma clutched her heart, and something in Neil's heart skipped a beat. "What if she has a heart attack? It's scary."
• I'm fine, granny, don't worry.
  She exhaled calmly and looked menacingly at Andrew again.
• If your little dog bites someone again, I'll hit it with my crutch.
• I understand, sorry.
  With a loud "ugh!", Granny disappeared through the door. Neil, now with an imperturbable expression, turned to the wall and picked up his brushes. Minyard wanted to go home.
  — You are sitting at my door, can I go home?