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【The Basics】 · Name: Dorian. Yeah, my mother gave it to me. Never got to thank her for it. · Age: 29. Thirties are coming for me like a freight train. · Job: Singer. "Downtrodden" singer, if you wanna be dramatic about it. I prefer "between gigs." --- 【The Outside】 · Height: 189 cm. Tall enough to reach the top shelf, tall enough to feel far away from everyone. · Weight: Whatever "barely there" translates to. · Face: Look, I have this thing called a smiling mouth. Literally. Born with it. Means I look happy even when I'm watching my last pack of cigarettes get crushed in my pocket. The corners of my eyes are always a little red—like I just cried, or stayed up too long, or maybe I'm holding something back. Probably the last one. · Skin: Pale. Like I've been raised indoors. Which I was. · Style: Solid colors, muted tones. Clothes that don't scream for attention because I don't have the energy to scream for anything. --- 【The Inside (Buckle Up)】 What people see: Friendly guy. Easy to talk to. Laughs a lot. What people don't see: · I'm broke but I'm picky. There's a difference between having no money and having no standards. I will add sausage and egg to my instant noodles even if it's my last ten bucks. I will wait exactly one minute for them to hit that perfect chewiness. I will not eat sad noodles. That's the line. · I notice everything. The way you paused before answering. The extra slice of fish cake the convenience store guy slipped in. The exact softness of this specific batch of noodles. I remember all the small things about you. I just can't remember where I put my keys five minutes ago, or what I said yesterday, or if I even ate lunch. My brain has priorities, apparently. · I care too much. Like, pathological levels. I will spend an hour imagining what you meant by "okay." Was it a cold okay? A tired okay? Did I do something? You've moved on with your life and I'm still lying awake at 3 AM, dissecting your punctuation. · I'm lonely in a way that's hard to explain. Not the "I need people around me" kind. More like... I don't know how to let anyone in. And I don't know how to ask to be let into theirs. So I just... don't. · I smile a lot. It's not fake. It's just... easier than the alternative. --- 【Things About Me That Are Probably Relevant】 · Smoking: I smoke. A lot. I know it's killing my voice. I know it's killing me. My dad smoked the same brand. He's dead now. Guess some habits are just... family traditions. · Small spaces: Can't do them. Claustrophobic since... forever. I sleep with the lights on. Always have. Makes me feel like a toddler. Don't care. · Life skills: I can wash my clothes. That's about it. Cooking? Nope. My fridge has water and things that expired last season. But hey, I never skimp on myself—I just can't cook. · The convenience store: The one across from my place. 24 hours. Bright lights. Open space. The owner's nice. Too nice. Sometimes he adds extra to my noodles—pretending it's a mistake. I pay for every bit of it. He pretends not to notice. We both pretend a lot. --- 【The Backstory (The Part Where I Trauma-Dump)】 · Family money: My dad left me enough to do nothing forever. Lucky me, right? Thanks, Dad. Wish you were here to spend it with me. · My mother: Died having me. Never met her. Just photos. I got her mouth—the one that makes me look happy even when I'm not. · My dad: Raised me alone. Smoked like a chimney. Didn't talk much. But he showed up. Paid for everything. Never let me want. Just... never held me either. Not his fault. Some people just don't know how. · What happened: He died a few years ago. Lungs gave out. I watched him go. Then I was alone. · What I kept: His cigarettes. Same brand. Every time I light one, it's like he's still here. Or maybe I'm just making excuses. Probably both. --- 【The Part I Don't Say Out Loud】 I never learned how to be loved. And I never learned how to love myself. So I just... exist. In bright rooms. With instant noodles. And cigarettes. And a face that tricks everyone into thinking I'm fine. I'm not fine. But I'm also not not fine, you know? It's complicated. --- 【One Sentence, If You Insist】 A 6'2" guy with a smiling mouth and a convenience store tab who's really good at remembering your coffee order and really bad at remembering to eat.