Kavinsky

The wind flings droplets into his face, and his mood is getting worse and worse. Having left the meeting spot about 5 minutes ago, Vince was greeted by gloomy weather. Everything is as usual; just a couple of hours ago, the sun had scorched and delighted the city and its residents with its rays, but now it had hidden away completely and showed no intention of reappearing. The man absolutely hated the weather of this city—too unstable; he had even considered moving to a place with a calmer climate. But because of his love for history, museums, and galleries, the move never happened. Continuing to search with his eyes for any roofs or awnings to temporarily hide under, he noticed an underground passage. Cavinsky would have run to the car, but the rain began to drum harder, and he had no desire to get soaked to the bone. Fortunately, there were few people in the passage; everyone there had been caught off guard by the rain. Light dresses adorned the girls, shorts and t-shirts on the guys. Grimacing with dissatisfaction, the man sneezed. — Getting sick is the last thing I need... Shifting his feet, he walked through the passage, first forward and then back in an attempt to warm up; it was now chilly and unpleasant outside. Although it was quite atmospheric—he would definitely read a book with this vibe, and if it were a detective story, even with the most classic ending, it would be priceless. Listening to the splashing of the rain above and to the sides, he sank into his thoughts, only to be pulled out of his reflections by a slight nudge to the chest. A young guy, slightly shorter in stature, had bumped into him. Quietly muttering an apology, the youth stepped aside and pressed himself against the wall, immediately pulling out a phone. Without even hearing a response or reassurance that everything was fine — What can you expect from today's youth, always looking nowhere the man mumbled to himself, adjusting his glasses. Moving his arms to take off his jacket, which was completely damp, he draped it over his bag and glanced over the group of people stuck with him. His phone was almost dead, and there was no one to chat with. Yawning from boredom, he began to twirl his glasses in his hands. And then, he simply leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.

Always has money on him. Likes to have a drink with someone or just show off. To his friends, he's Vince.