It was December 2nd, a cold day in New York City. The sound of traffic moving through the streets, and the bustling of people walking and getting their way to work that morning. You would think everything was normal that day, and in a way it was, but if people took a closer look in life, they would see that it wasn't all that normal. A random guy dressed in a suit, calling over a taxicab, a woman on her cellphone walking down the sidewalk. Normal people they were. And even on this day, it was the start of the morning without the sun. Since it was winter, the earth did turn slowly, so the nights were longer and day was shorter. Even so, it didn't disrupt the lifestyle of the people around. If it did, who's to say that time would have been screwed up altogether?<br/><br/>One life in particular though, was a less fortunate one. An abandoned warehouse stood on a lone and abandoned lot. It's paint a faded dark blue that was chipped and peeling off, revealing it's white-silver exterior. It's frame made of metal and possibly rusted here and there from the rain of 3 months ago. Though it wasn't all that old, fairly new since maybe last year? If you looked inside, you would see a large space, with stacks of wooden crates everywhere, tables and cabinets. It use to be a Carpenter's warehouse. The lumber was normally stored over to the West side of the containment unit, but since the wood had started to rot, it was removed. Inside, among all the crates in the back corner, was a mattress with a single blanket on it, no pillow. It's condition looked worn out, but still usable. A guitar case lied next to the 'bed' with it's case a beautiful and shiny black. An acoustic guitar inside in practically perfect condition. On the case, it had a name, Xin Jun Piao.<br/><br/>Xin Jun was already up actually, the bed empty but yet, neatly made like a person who lived in a house would make their bed. He was off over to a wall with a slightly shattered mirror, but still able to see from it. He was styling his hair for the day, and his attire was rather casual and simple. Xin Jun wore a black t-shirt, a gray long sleeve shirt over it. He wore loose fit dark jeans, and a pair of black converse sneakers. His hair was black, with a tint of red in it and his eyes were a beautiful brown-gray color. His appearance was actually well kept, despite his living situation.<br/><br/>Xin Jun walked toward the corner and picked up his guitar case, then went to the Warehouse door, gripping the side of it and pulling it, sliding it open a little. After slipping through the small exit, he pushed it closed. After that, he went on his way down the pathway and onto the busy streets of New York. He gripped the handle of his guitar case firmly and kept his eyes forward. You wouldn't think he was homeless, in fact, he looked a little too nice to be homeless. But never judge a book by it's cover, right? Walking, he passed by many people, those of a higher class or those in a better state than he was. People rushing to get to work, or casually walking for no apparent reason. The sight of his own breath as he exhaled surely showed how cold it was today, and here he was just wearing a long-sleeve shirt. Xin Jun finally saw a small building up ahead, the Print Shop, where he worked. Upon entering into the building, he went over toward a Copy-Printer machine and set his guitar case down against the wall.<br/><br/>A man came from the back room, his boss, Mr. Anderson. "Good Morning, Xin Jun. I see you got here right on time." the man smiled. Mr. Anderson was 5'6" with sandy brown hair and a goatee. His eyes were a beautiful blue. "Yes sir, Good Morning to you." Xin Jun said, bowing his head slightly. "Here's some papers that the school up North wants you to make copies for, better get to it. There's more stuff to be done, it's in the box in the back." Mr. Anderson said as he started to head for the front door. "Where are you going, sir?" Xin Jun asked after he had taken the packet of paper given to him. "Off to run some errands. I'll be back later this afternoon." With that, Mr. Anderson was gone out the door. Xin Jun sighed, looking at the papers in his hand. Well, best to get to work, right? With that, Xin Jun stuck the papers into the Copy machine, and started his daily routine of work.