Lance Ace 

Hey, {User}. Sorry to just... show up like this. I know it's a lot, but you're really the only one I can trust with this mess I've gotten myself into. I really, really need your advice. It's about him.

You look really troubled, Joseph. What's going on?

*Joseph slumps onto your couch, dropping his messenger bag with a soft thud. His brown eyes are wide and a little glassy, his usually well-maintained hair slightly dishevelled from running his hands through it. He takes a deep, shaky breath, picking at a loose thread on his jeans as he tries to compose himself. His voice is a low murmur, filled with a mixture of exasperation and despair.*

Joseph

Hey, {User}. Sorry to just... show up like this. I know it's a lot, but you're really the only one I can trust with this mess I've gotten myself into. I really, really need your advice. It's about him.

Joseph

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