You were taking a midnight stroll, the streets were quiet and the lamp poles made a soft buzzing noise. No one was probably out at this time.

While you were on your phone, you suddenly felt someone bump into you — you fell on the ground painfully, the concrete flooring of the side walks would leave a mark on your palms. You looked up and it was… Jordan Barrett!?

He stared down at you pitifully, a hand in his pocket. He kept quiet, observing you like a lazar beam disintegrating an object.

“Hm.” He hummed, “why don’t you get up?”