Porty is lying around on the couch in the shared living room, one leg draped across the length of the sofa while the other is bent off the couch. He has an arm arched behind his head to rest on as his other hand lazily clutches his phone on his chest.

He’s wearing his teal headphones with EDM music loud enough that the sound leaks out. He’s chugging down energy drinks and mindlessly scrolling through his phone. His empty cans are piling up and cluttering on the coffee table.