【ｓｏ ｙｏｕ＇ｒｅ ａ ｄｒｅａｍｅｒ， ｔｏｏ？】
stats.
name: kasey wallace-sinclair
nicknames: kase, spacey kasey
age: twenty-three.
gender identity: trans female.
pronouns: she/her
sexuality: bisexual
birthday: september 7th, 1998
star sign: virgo
year of study: junior.
major: computer science.
occupation: student.
place of birth: san francisco, ca.
height: 5′10
biography.
Kasey Wallace-Sinclair was given two surnames because her parents simply couldn’t decide on one. It was this indecisiveness that shaped the way that she grew up— every wall of her childhood bedroom was painted a slightly different shade of yellow, and her hair was always tied back with baubles of three different textures and patterns. From each ear (pierced when she was three) she wore mismatched earrings and as she grew up, she simply adopted the philosophy that odd socks were just as good as any other ones.
As far as she knows, she was born in San Francisco, California to a teenaged mother who couldn’t yet handle having a child just yet, and instead was put into the hands of two successful and loving parents; an interior designer and a software engineer, a brand-new king of Silicon Valley. She had been given the name Kyle, but they saw the way that their child struggled under their love, how they grasped for brighter, more beautiful things. They cared little for the constructs or expectations of the rest of their community and Kyle became Kasey, and whatever tears and horror had tormented their child seemed to cease. Her father was often busy, but it was her mother who nurtured- under the warmth of her love, she blossomed.
She didn’t have a hard childhood, she remembers rocket popsicles that dripped down the length of her arm and endless, easy summers. She’s a strong swimmer and took to water like a fish, sinking into the ocean and throwing herself from diving boards. Her light hair grew lighter in the sun and her skin freckled and browned. Their lush home in California offered everything that it was that she desired, though as she grew older her parents saw her need for them to be less- her father came home later and later each night, her mother’s care became notes on the kitchen counters and dinner left in the oven.
Fall was a bit harder, and being trapped behind a desk so far from a window made her fidget and squirm. School made her hide under the sheets and pretend to be sick, especially when words danced on the page and she couldn’t make sense of them. When words were the enemy, it was numbers that she loved. It was that and the children that she chattered with at the bus stop made each haul to the classroom worth it. Kasey was doing equations that all the other students couldn’t dream of completing in the third grade in one period, but cried over a sea of text in the next.
After a while, she stopped trying. It felt good, letting go of a rope that had been twined around her throat for so long. Instead, she treaded water, fell in love with the way that numbers could form anything if you entered them in the right combinations on a computer. She toted a laptop around with her at all times, typing furiously away at a screen to make something out of nothing. A bit of her own magic. She made her mother’s interior design website, then a funny animated email for her father. When she turned thirteen she’d been declared both incredibly clever and incredibly unmotivated, making apps on their home desktop while staring blankly into space during class.
She found other ways to immerse herself. After a fall fair, she’d decided that she wanted to learn how to read palms and fell in love with the magic of it— pulling meaning out of the lines in someone’s hands, she absorbed everything there was to know from a youtube video and then made up the rest, believing it all wholly. Astrology was her next fascination and after that, she swore that she could see auras, and after that, her senior year was spent learning strange animal facts instead of reading Huckleberry Finn. Her parents had begged her to apply to colleges, and shocking everyone, Rye University had taken her in. It had been references that had pushed them to take the chance on her, as well as a weighty portfolio of already successful applications, all published under her name.
She likes Rye, and she likes having somewhere new to roam. Her tights still have stars on them and they’re either baggy at the knees or ripped, but she floats through campus unbothered, tucking flowers behind her ears on her journeys. She spends her days in the sun and with other people, laughing easily at jokes she often doesn’t understand, despite knowing that sometimes, they’re about her. Her evenings are spent in her dorm, typing away at her computer to finish projects— cancelling the world out with oversized headphones and late night radio. She’s often seen at parties, bumming a cigarette or leaning over a skull-shaped bottle of spirits, giggling away at her own thoughts. She’s a space-case they’ll whisper, and she won’t deny it, tipping her head back to laugh and laugh and laugh.
Kasey loves and she loves deeply. Even though love hasn’t always been kind to her and even though it has hurt— she finds herself incapable of shutting the valve and telling that rusty pipe that there is nothing left for her to give.
(hunter schafer, she/her+ transwoman, 23) | well of course you’ve heard of (kasey wallace-sinclair), right? they are a (third) year student living in (the town of rye) taking (computer science) at rye university, and as per the blinds, they are like (a ceramic neko cat with a chipped ear but a cheerful wave, mismatched socks in lime and neon pink, a glow in the dark star fallen from the ceiling-sky and stuck to blonde hair), but that may just be because they know (redacted).
