He was a nobody anyway. Got it. Bill Hole — a true nobody. That’s actually one of the strongest foundations you can give a character.Being unremarkable is gold for fiction. It lets the story breathe through quiet observation, subtle transformation, and the slow realization that “nobody” can still matter (or completely disappear) in a new place.How to Lean Into the “Nobody” VibeIn Portland: He was the guy who lived in a small apartment on Munjoy Hill or in the East End, worked a mid-level job (maybe at a biotech firm or doing basic IT support), drank moderately at the Porthole or Fore Street bars but never stood out, had a couple of acquaintances but no real close friends, and blended into the gray Maine winters. People might have vaguely remembered his name but couldn’t pick him out of a lineup. The Move to Bangalore: No fanfare. He quit a forgettable job, sold or stored his few possessions, and left without anyone making much of a fuss. Now he’s just another foreign face in Whitefield or Indiranagar — the quiet American who nods politely, struggles with the heat, and watches everything with that detached New England stare. Internal Life: Perfect setup for dry humor, self-deprecation, or quiet existential drift. He knows he’s average. He might even like it — or it might start eating at him once the anonymity of Bangalore hits differently than Portland’s small-city version. This “nobody” status gives you huge freedom: he can reinvent himself, ghost his old life entirely, or slowly become someone (or stay invisible) without any dramatic baggage.