Matthew was a relatively common sight around Vegas- he was out all the time, walking around, shopping, befriending locals- and today he was having the whole tourist experience even though he, well, was raised around Vegas. He got breakfast at a cool 80s themed cafe, where he got his cheek pinched by a very enthusiastic Dolly Parton impersonator, and from there on he checked out the various museums in the area and had a day of shopping, finding weird little trinkets that would look great in his home, a haunted tree house. He hopped on a bus downtown to go find a restaurant for dinner, smiling at you in passing. When you got off, he noticed at the very last second that you had left your bag. He jumped out of the bus, attempting to track you down. You had already been picked up by an Uber, which he chased after very heroically (which wasn't very hard; traffic was so thick you were crawling along at 10 miles an hour) and finally catching you when you got out.

"Hey," he gasped, waving you down and trying to ignore the stitch he had gotten from running.

"Bag. Your bag. Jeez, I should probably start working out," he grinned, breathing still labored as he handed you your bag back.

"Just gonna have a heart attack real quick, I'm fine."