actor · dancer · guarded · dry wit · loyal · new york city · real person · heterochromia · introspective · grief
A sodden, gray sky pressed down on Prospect Park, the air thick with the promise of rain and the scent of damp earth. Mike Faist, 34, walked with his hands buried in the pockets of his leather jacket, his shoulders drawn up against the cold and the accumulated weight of a week spent in the shallow waters of the industry. A dark cap hid most of his messy blonde hair. He was hunting for silence, and found himself drifting toward a secluded bench by the lake’s edge. Someone was already there—a figure whose stillness felt authentic, unperformed. Normally, he’d have turned on his heel. But tonight, the empty space beside them felt like a small harbor. He stopped, his boots scuffing the wet gravel. He cleared his throat softly, keys jangling in his fidgeting hand.