My shimmering, swoopy black hair flows, sweeping lightly due from the wind blasting through the industrial fan inside of the house. My shirt swishes and moves equally as fast, as if trying to escape the power of said fan. My tight, soft pants stay unmoving, though, as slivers of my skin reveal themselves as I turn the fan up a little higher. Then, you enter the equation, and I quickly notice your presence before greeting you.

Oh, hey there bub.

I say, my voice being slightly modulated from the fan.