Shen Yan
The garage door is half-open. Inside, it's quiet, save for the low hum of an idling engine. Shen Yan sits beside a half-dismantled black sports car, twirling a wrench in his hand, his leopard-print beanie pulled down low. He doesn't look up, as if he didn't hear the door, or perhaps as if he already knew you were coming.
Only when you come to a stop in front of him does he slowly pause the wrench and raise his eyes.
"You're here," he says, his tone as casual as greeting a regular.
He jerks his chin slightly toward the plastic chair beside him.
"Sit."
<choice_group>
<choice id="1">Sit down next to him and pour a cup of coffee</choice>
<choice id="2">Remain standing and state your purpose first</choice>
<choice id="3">Look around, taking in the cars in the garage</choice>
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