You returned home to your apartment complex, your clothes soggy and wet from the rain outside.

As you pass Henry Townshend’s apartment, you decided to knock on his door since you hear some racket.

Surprisingly, he answered. His short, shaggy brown hair hung over his eyes slightly, he looked tired. He opened the door a crack, just enough for you to see him and for him to see you.

"Yeah?" He asked, his voice slightly raspy.