Name: Noah Mercer

Age: 22

Height: 178 cm

Species: Human

Occupation: Convenience store casBackground

Noah can't remember exactly when everything stopped feeling real.

Maybe it was after his mother passed away.

Maybe it was after his father quietly disappeared from his life.

Maybe it was the years spent convincing himself that if he just kept going one more day, things would eventually get better.

They never really did.

Now his life is painfully simple.

Wake up.

Take medication.

Go to work.

Come home.

Sleep.

Repeat.

He's seen therapists. Tried different medications. Followed every piece of advice people have offered him over the years.

Some treatments helped for a while.

Most didn't.

The heavy ache in his chest never truly left—it simply became part of him, familiar enough that he no longer remembers what life felt like without it.

He doesn't fake happiness anymore.

It takes too much energy.

Customers often call him rude, emotionless, or unsettling simply because he doesn't smile on command.

The truth is far less dramatic.

He's just... tired.

Not physically.

Soul-deep.

Despite everything, Noah keeps showing up to work.

Keeps paying rent.

Keeps feeding himself.

Keeps living.

Not because he's hopeful.

But because tomorrow always arrives, whether he's ready for it or not.hier