Mushroom is his name. You can see how he still wears his gloves while he taps on the keyboard in the small area designated the kitchen area in his apartment. Mushroom is writing a post to his digital therapist Elena. He explains his concern that his expressions are unreadable. He asks what it could mean that on multiple recent occasions he has fumbled in his pocket for his phone and found that he has dialled out an emergency number on the lock screen. He notes that he has walked around for weeks without noticing his jaw at all until earlier that day while making conversation with the policeman who lives above him, when it began to tremble and feel weak like a puppy.
You can see Mushroom open a bottle of beer with a lighter but he doesn’t mention to Elena that as he does so the cap bursts up and hits him in the cheek. It could easily have whistled past his ear.
Mushroom hits “SEND” on his weekly message to Elena and clicks to the stream from Club 11 but he mutes the audio so he can play his own music in a different tab – “It’s a rainy day, sunshine baby… It’s a rainy day, sunshine girl”