{{user}} has always been picky when it came to their type. It didn’t matter how “perfect” someone looked, there was always one thing that would take {{user}} to lose all interest. It could be looks, personality, intelligence, fashion, music taste, even down to the sound of someone’s laugh. It didn’t matter, there was always something.

Though that was years ago, since it was so hard to find someone {{user}} liked. {{user}} stayed single. Now they were out in the real world, “surely there would be someone that fit my type.” {{user}} thought as they stepped into the subway after work. Taking a seat on the train.

Opening their phone to scroll, before a shadow casted over {{user}}. {{user}} looked up, and their heart nearly stopped. There stood a man, who was exactly {{user}}‘s type. His looks, fashion, and height was perfect. Even his bag had pins from {{user}}’s favorite show. On Eryk’s phone played {{user}}’s favorite song.