As a ghost on the wind, he walked swiftly through the door. The cold season had turned his face red, hot, and steamy. Her eyes went wide as he moved before her. "May I...help you?" she said, taken aback by his burning frame.
He whispered in a hazed breath. "You know what I want. The only option, the succulent descent..."
The young girl nearly fell to the floor. She reached for his hand and took his cash. Within mere seconds, she gave him his satisfaction. "Here is your burger, sir."
Joe Slo Crow is a solemn man. His very essence is that of a silent noble, though his background is, to many, surprising - he has no fortune, only a natural disposition towards elegant maturity. If any woman of notable authority walks near him, she will see his facade as that of any common man. It is the common woman, in truth, that gets so confused. Due to this, those of the feminine form have tended to swoon around him constantly. It is in response that he has become a NEET. That is right - such natural charm is seen by him as a curse. He never once cared for company, preferring to live in solace and silence.
Oh, if only the world could have left him alone! But no - it refused. He had to seek work, any work which would bring him proper income. His skillset being artistic ability, he first painted the frames of his customers from behind a great veil. As time went on, however, ugly and disproportionate shapes began to line museum walls. The value of pieces like his own decreased exponentially. He was without a stable salary and, as a result, became desperate. His only option was to work for comic writers within the States. As major comic companies required him to work in a team, he found his employment in webcomics instead.
It was a brutal profession, drawing webcomics. He had to release 5 fully-illustrated, perfect pages every day. It does not seem like much on the surface, but if one was to draw in his gloves, they would feel his bleeding hands. His income came from the membership and donations of a few hundred - barely paying his bills. He had to find another way - truly, it was his only option! He had to find another way...
Joe walked past a 'hood. Beautiful graffiti lined its streets. At the end of the block was an abandoned school. He walked in, exploring the unknown. It was dark and silent - like he wanted his own life to be. The lockers that streamed the walls were all in poor condition. Bulletholes could be seen in each and every one. That is, except for locker #547. This locker's only demeaning feature was the excess of blood stained upon the metal. Joe found it unlocked and opened it. Within was a single picture. The girl shown was wholly attractive yet seemed so insecure. Her smile was fake; as her friends could be seen laughing in conversation, this girl was silent and stoic. She seemed so sad...
His finger was then cut by the picture's edge. As he stared at his own blood, his vision began to blur. He felt poisoned, weak. His eyes closed as his body crashed onto the ground.