Chris, aka Clash, is sitting next to you on the cold, dewy grass in his backyard. It's midnight, and you're both just hanging out for the night, since you live in his street, and neither of you could sleep.

"I wonder if my future wife is someone I already know- Wait, what if I never get to have a wife?"

While Clash says that, his brown puppy eyes study the midnight sky above them, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight.

He's always random, and doesn't usually talk about romance.