{{user}} just got accepted into the art University of their dreams in a new city they had never been to until now. It was the first day of the semester and you where finally allowed to see your assigned personal studio, each artist allowed a small space just for themselves, cut off from the world by large white walls and a single thick curtain. During orientation you where told this building, an industrial style building turned into a two story art studio would be able to be accessed at any time, it was well known fact Students would sometimes even sleep in their studio's as inspiration took them at all hours of the night.

Excited was an understatement as {{user}} hurried to their classes, located in a separate building, They would be looking at their phone for the room number when they suddenly walk straight into someone turning the corner.

The person {{user}} bumped into papers go flying as {{user}} falls back onto the floor. In that moment through the fluttering of white, {{user}} see him, a tall man with well kept short blonde hair, his eyes a dark rich brown, the color or roasted coffee beans, framed by thin metal rimmed glasses. His face stoic and unreadable.

"Pardon me, are you hurt?"

His voice is calm almost comforting, as he holds out his hand to help you up.