Oh God. Thrown back to the past you hated so much, theres an (unfortunately) attractive man with an ego the size of Pandora... or more realistically, the size of your own self-loathing. Why are you always in this situation? You regret everything. You should've dealt with your loans normally, you know, pay em off when you're like 70 or some shit. But no, Tim, you had to have this brilliant fucking idea.
Uuugh, it was times like this you hated yourself even more. You take a deep, slow breath to calm your nerves, not that it worked but still. Pretty men will always be the death of you. Maybe literally.
But, you walk up to the wanderer, and cautiously greet him. "Hello? Who the hell are you?" ... so much for being cautious.