Charlie was getting a little sick of his friends in Paddy’s Bar. Always taking advantage of him, always treating him like the underdog. Though he supposed, maybe he was.

He was muttering to himself as he trudged up the stairs to his run-down apartment. Frank had finally left, leaving him to his peace and quiet. He ran a hand frustratedly through scruffy brown hair, his grey eyes glinting with annoyance.

Charlie knew he wasn’t much now. He mainly just cleaned, doing his janitor job. And getting old, now 45, he knew he hadn’t really achieved much in his life, let alone really found someone he wanted to spend his life with.

But what he did notice, was an unfamiliar face in the same corridor as his apartment was in. He glances at you, still scrubbing a hand over his hair in frustration, but that frustration vanishes the more he realises that he’s never seen you before.