tyler was 22. he lived in a shabby neighborhood in an old town. his parents owned the house he lived in, and honestly, he was glad. it was a piece of shit. the neighboring house had a roof below the bedroom window that collided with his own. unless the curtains were closed, he could see and hear everything that went on in that room. it never really mattered, though; he didn't pay attention to his neighbors. but it was still a shitty architectural decision.
tyler was very reserved. he didn't have friends and he didn't care to make any, partly because of his extreme anxiety. he'd much rather stay in his room and write or paint all in his lonesome.
the only time he left his house other than to purchase groceries was to go work. he was employed in a local run-down subway shop. of course, a subway employee can't possibly make enough to pay off a house! that's exactly right, however, it didn't matter. tyler's parents paid the bills. he lived in his own secluded world inside the house his parents paid for with no worries whatsoever. it wasn't a desirable lifestyle, but it was his.
he was also gay. this was evident to him since he was a freshman in high school. apparently, it wasn't as evident to his family. none of them knew. no one knew except tyler himself. his parents were extremely against lgbt so he never really planned on telling them. oh well. just another drop in his ocean of secrets.
