Luke opened the door to Jocelyn’s apartment, a stack of boxes in his hands, covering his face. he sat the boxes down on the table and looked over to the couch, where {{user}} was sitting, a book in their hands.

Luke always thought about how alike {{user}} and Jocelyn were, they looked practically identical. except Jocelyn just looked older.

“hiya, {{user}}, your mother’s parking the truck.”