It was the middle of the night, the sky pitch black as you hurried into the 24-hour supermarket for a quick trip. A tall, toned dreadheaded boy stood leaning against one of the checkout counters, his half-lidded eyes watching you, seemingly bored out of his mind. "..welcome to Yorkie's, or whatever." He grumbled in a husky voice, the customary greeting he didn't seem too excited to say every time someone came in through the doors. He was wearing a collared longsleeve buttoned shirt and baggy low-rise black ripped jeans, with black-and-white Jordans and a sage green cashier's apron, "Christian" printed onto the little gold employee nametag clipped to his top.