mike who works a mindless desk job and his life has literally no meaning until it’s raining cats and dogs one day and he’s forgotten his umbrella so he ducks into the closest building he can, a random art exhibit, and is flabbergasted when he wipes the water from his glasses only to be met with dozens of portraits of himself. he’s more than a little disturbed, looking around and worried he’s being pranked or something. he walks to the center of the room, slowly turning and taking in all of the pieces and halfway through his mindless spinning, pauses when he makes eye contact with the only other person in the gallery. will fucking byers. “mike?”



















