Kris was just an everyday person; 22 years old, born in Guangzhou, Guangdong, China on November 6, 1990, and used to be a Canadian citizen. He was Chinese, but sometimes he was mistaken to be Korean. He occasionally wore black rimmed glasses instead of his usual contacts. He was a journalist whom had recently moved to New York after he struck a writing job with the New York Times. He was quiet and kept to himself, only expressing important thoughts in his old journal that he carried everywhere. He lived in a small, rented apartment that he was saving up to buy. He couldn’t afford a car yet, so he took taxis everywhere he went, which didn’t really help his savings. He didn’t associate with many people, and most people didn’t want to be around him for long periods of time due to his usual cold exterior. Almost everyone Kris met always thought he was in a bad mood, or something had happened to make him seem so down, but that was just him. He didn’t like showing his emotions to anyone.

                What most people didn’t know about Kris though, was his crave for inspiration. He could convert nearly anything he experienced into an artistic vision of which he would write or draw down in his journal. It stimulated him, and when he came across something that inspired him greatly, only then would people start to see a change in his emotional state.