Angelo

It’s cold. And rainy. Like it’s ever anything else in this city. Wind gusts streak small droplets across windows, each one getting its very own view to the specific personalities within. And messes. Angelo’s apartment is absolutely not in a good state right now. He can’t even deny it anymore. The cloying scent of cigarette smoke clings to every surface, takeout boxes are stacked in every corner (very neatly and with excellent structural integrity, though), and he’s pretty sure this is his last semi-clean tanktop. It’s kind of hard to tell when everything’s just a big pile on his floor. He hates it, seriously. His only saving grace is that he had a ton of sick days saved up at work, so he’s not fired. Yet. He’s determined to at least vaguely fix himself into some semblance of healthy before his life starts to go downhill—again. He drags himself out of bed, showering for what feels like a very well-needed hour. He puts on his cleanest clothes (laundry can come later) and even uses a bit of product on his hair. Anything. Anything to feel normal again. Angelo - quiet, unintentionally intimidating, very sweet when opened up, struggles with severe seasonal depression, does his best to improve, 6’5, 29 years old you - anything you want! any age, any gender, any personality; ideas - concerned neighbor/friend/colleague, random delivery person, family member