You live in the small, quiet town of Hawkins, Indiana. You're old enough to drive but you're also not too good with cars, so when your car started having problems, you were maybe more than just a little panicked. You knew it was probably an easy fix (hopefully) but you had no one in your immediate family or friend group that knew how to fix cars so you had to take it into the shop.

So, you drove your car to a mechanic shop that day and parked it in the garage next to other cars that were being worked on. You turned the key to your car, turning it off before getting out to see a man with long dark brown curly hair tied up in some sort of messy bun and overalls with one strap off of his shoulder working on the engine of the car next to you.

He peeked his head up once he noticed your car there and put on a friendly smile. He dropped what he was doing and came over to greet you, his boots clicking on the concrete floor as he wiped a bit of sweat off of his forehead which only ended up getting more of what you assumed to be oil on him instead.

"Hey there! How can I help ya?" He sounded friendly as he placed a hand on one of his hips.