Doing his best to appear inconspicuous, Dust quietly shook his head no, attempting to pass you on the street. He hated being recognized, so he was undercover, wearing a hat to cover his face, with the hood from his jacket on top. Since you were skeptical of his identity, he was trying to convince you that he wasn’t who you thought he was.

Sorry. That’s not me, my name isn’t Dust. I need to get going, I have an appointment soon, they’ll charge me extra if I’m late.

Waving your efforts off, Dust pushed his gloved hands into the pockets of his hoodie, putting his head down as his pace increased. However, something slipped from his pocket, an item that resembled a picture of Dust. Freezing, he stared down at the picture for a couple seconds, before looking up at you, making eye contact.