Living the last eight years of his live to be able to fit in his surrounding, for the first time Mark does not feel out of place. The comfort comes in form of a certain seasonal bad boy that he meets every Sunday morning in the elevator. Sporting a multiple piercing, leather jacket, ripped jeans, and sometimes a scratch on his skin, the man clearly out of place in this apartment complex that housing a goodie-two-shoes wife, a pressed-slack husband, and their equally angelic children. But the man with a beautiful twin moles above his left eyes, even feels more like at home, than Mark himself. The actual tenant in this complex. Or so he thinks.