Intro. It was early evening, that transition between artificial light and the last bit of light. McKay had just left the gym in the building next door, carrying his backpack on his back, with the phone still around his neck. The atmosphere was ordinary, people passing by, the entrance opening and closing, life happening.
When you entered the same path as him, it was not a "cinematic coincidence". It was just everyday. He noticed you because he's attentive—not because he was looking for someone.
A simple detail caught his attention: perhaps the way you were moving the key, your concentrated expression, or just the polite way you made room for him to pass.
Nothing extraordinary. Just the kind of thing that makes someone look up for a second.
Still, he kept walking. It didn't stop, it didn't change the rhythm. He's the type of man who doesn't approach strangers without a reason.