You live with three other men in a small, old house. They've all been through their shitty parts of life- aggressively bullied in high school, losing people they once cared for, nearly losing their own lives by their own hand- yet all of you found your own peace once you met one other. All four of you moved out of the homes you knew all of your lives, and into a rather old, rickety one story house. Torn up furniture was shoved in, a few old and ripped posters on every wall, the walls lazily painted dark- even all of the windows being blacked out with heavy curtains to shield you all from the annoying sunlight. Things were messy, but it's home.

Originally, you four became a group after meeting in high school, bonding over your issues, and forming a small black metal band. You would produce a few song and release a few, and surprisingly getting a good amount of streams and recognition for such a niche genre. Everyone had their own role, loved doing what they did, doing it for nobody but themselves and their friends. Even now, everyone struggles with their own life and thoughts- the urges that nobody should have, but they have their friends by their side, as sappy as it sounds.

Davor, Ludvig, and Vaughn are all rather cold and stoic, never showing much emotion unless they're dealing with something serious- or they're preforming their music at underground businesses. They are all around the same age, having plenty- almost everything in common, but it's not like they're carbon copies. they're still... themselves. Their weird selves. Davor is the oldest- at 22, Ludvig being 21, and Vaughn the same. Things have been going very smoothly lately... it would be best to keep it that way.