Cory wasn’t sheltered growing up so much as he sheltered himself. HIs parents always encouraged him to push himself and be out there. He knew, of course, they meant on stage performing, not being the King of keg stands at rooftop parties in Brooklyn. His transformation from quiet artist to frequent party goer was something he always blamed on his freshman year roommate who told him that he couldn't waste his life away in their dorm on a perfectly good Friday. Cory wouldn’t come to thank Hank Rogers until a couple years later when after completing his best kegstand to date he stumbled into the harms of Sebastian Smythe. In the beginning, the parties had been to escape and he would never have thought that a love connection would have been part of the deal. After college, Cory stopped going to hard. He started to drink his beer for the actual flavor and not because he wanted to get hammered. The fact that he was no longer single at the end of his college days helped to end his partying ways. At least in the way he had while he was at Pratt.
The flyer tacked haphazardly on the campus jobs board said ‘Amateur Dancers Wanted’ and while in Sam’s case rhythm wasn’t quite a dancer, he fit the bill of ‘amateur’, so he took the flyer and took a chance. The club was a lot nicer than he’d expected, or as nice as it could be for a male strip club but there was a promise of $1,000 in prize money and he was broke enough (and reckless enough) to seize the opportunity. It took a few shots of whiskey for him to take his shirt off, but his nerves soon faded once the bass thumped heavier and the screams grew louder. A chance encounter with a neon flyer ended with a cool grand in his pocket, and the opportunity to make more. His dancing improved (a lot), his tips were better, and he had to admit, he thrived off the attention. It paid the bills and kept the bursar’s office off his ass. It’s not something he actively talks about, not out of shame or guilt, just something he had to do, so he could do what he wanted. Above all, he considers it a learning experience.
Warnings: mentions of death, cancer, religious contemplation
Wave headcanon
One of the most calming sounds to Ryder is the sound of waves crashing against a shore. He grew up a short distance away from the beach and couldn't a remember a time when the sound didn't calm whatever storm was brewing within him. Sure, Ryder grew up probably a bit more privileged than most but he still had some angst sprinkled in during his teenage years. It mostly resulted from fights with his dad. There was always a rift between the two, especially when it came to school. Ryder's dad told him that he needed to buckle down, get with the program and whatever other cliche you could come up with. But Ryder was trying his hardest in school, he really was. So, there were a lot of fights in the Lynn household about Ryder's grades and his work ethic. His only escape seemed to be going down to the beach, to this old pier that people swore would cave in on itself at any moment. He would sit at the very edge, let his feet dangle over and scream till his throat felt raw. There were times he was scared that his yelling would be heard but the sound of the waves drowned him out. Now that he's older and knows how to deal with his anger better, the beach and waves in general provide with a different kind of sanctuary. Instead of being a deafening barrier, now they allow Ryder to clear his head, which is probably why he spends so much time running along the shore.
Word count: 260
Letter headcanon
It shouldn't be this hard, he knew that. But still he was having difficulty as a 15-year old to read a simple sentence. The letters weren't jumping around the page like they used to when he was young but the way in which they were organized still made no sense to him. He leaned forward, glancing between the teacher who held up a flashcard and the actual letters on the paper. It wasn't a word. He was sure of it. He'd seen some pretty weird looking words before but there was no way this was in the English language. He shook his head to himself as he brought the palms of his hands to rub at his eyes till he saw stars. This was stupid anyway. He didn't need any special help or to feel like he was stupider than he already felt, he was getting by in school just fine. C's got degrees, right.
Word count: 155
String headcanon
So, the break up had gone worse than expected. Way worse. But all in all, it was for the best. Ryder no longer had any romantic feelings for Mia and wasn't it better to break things off now then to date for another year or two, be expected to get engaged and break up then? In his eyes, he was doing them both a favor. He knew that, but still as he went around his apartment, gathering up the things she'd left over there or given him over the past couple years he kept remembering all the good times they'd have together. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake and he was just confused. He shifted through things in his nightstand before he pulled out a card she'd given him on their two year anniversary, attached a red string.
He could remember the night clearly, they were out by the beach laying squished together in one plastic beach chairs that hotels had out so that guests could relax. He remembered seeing her pull out the piece of string, only cause he thought it was such a weird thing to keep in someone's back pocket but he didn't say anything as she tied it around her finger. She started messing with the hand he had on his chest, playing with his fingers as she intertwined them with her own. His free hand combing through her hair a breeze blew through it as he whispered sweet nothings in her ear. It was nice, being in love and being this happy, he'd never felt like it before.
Ryder was looking out over the shore, watching as the waves crashed against the sand, the sound relaxing him even further. He didn't even notice that Mia had tied the opposite end of the string to his ring finger until he had tried to move his hand. "What. What is this?" He asked, eyebrows creasing. "There's this thing about soulmates having an invisible red thread that ties them together," She explained, her fingers running up and down his jawline. His eyes darted from hers to the string she had tied around their fingers, "You're my other half, Ry." She said with a small smile.
He twirled the string around his finger, still able to feel the way it felt when she had tied it there in the first place. A small part of him whispered that this wasn't the right option, she was his other half and this was just an obstacle they needed to overcome. But a bigger, louder part of him screamed that if the obstacle was him falling out of love, their relationship wouldn't work. How could you force yourself to love someone? Shaking his head to himself he grabbed the card, the string, and the box he had accumulated of her stuff and dumped the contents into his trash can. He didn't want to think about it anymore, he was doing this, they were over and he wasn't going back.
Word count: 498
Church headcanon
Ryder was never all that religious growing up, he went to church like he was supposed to, got all the sacraments from the Catholic church like his mom made him and that was that. He went along with it because well, it wasn't like he could just say 'I don’t know if I believe all this.' That would probably break his mom's heart too, so he went to church and didn't say a word about his doubts.
It wasn't until his sophomore year in high school that he stopped going. And even that was an ordeal. Months before he stopped going to church, Ryder's grandpa had passed away. The two had only recently gotten close and Ryder was sure it was because his grandpa knew his time was coming to an end and wanted to have as much time with all of his grandchildren as he could. Still, Ryder took advantage of it. His grandparents lived fairly close so after school he'd walk to their house and play whatever card game or trick his grandpa wanted to show him for a few hours before he needed to start on homework.
His grandpa was sick, lung cancer from all the cigars he smoked, the family knew it was coming. They'd been trying treatment for the last three years, but nothing was working, if anything it made the sickness even more aggressive.
It happened in early March, his grandma and his uncle were in the room when he passed. They said it was peaceful. It took a few days for Ryder to fully process it, he stayed quiet through everything. He was the stoic pair of shoulders to cry on that he had been taught to be, he didn't even remember shedding a tear until it was his turn to grab a handful of dirt and sprinkle it onto the casket. Once the one tear came down, they wouldn't stop. His dad had to grip his shoulder and walk him back to the car. He went home, turned on the Elvis record his grandpa had given him, laid in bed and didn't get up until he absolutely had to.
It was hard for Ryder to believe there was some magical place in the sky where everybody went to when they died. It was hard for Ryder to think he'd ever see his grandpa again. It was hard for him to think that when his grandpa died, there probably wasn't some white light guiding him to whatever was in store for him, he was sure nothing greeted him. And how was that fair? How was that fair for a man who gave up everything and moved him and his young wife from their beloved home country that had been taken over by a tyrant. He never saw his own parents or siblings again, went to a country where he barely spoke the language, worked 7 days a week to provide for his young growing family, prayed and believed in God and did everything right. And still all he got was a sickness drawn out over years. A loving, merciful God wouldn't have done that. Wouldn't have put a family through Hell and back for nothing. The God Ryder was taught to believe in would have rewarded his grandpa's devotion and years of service, right?
Word count: 551
Bubble headcanon
Bubble was the right word, that's what Ryder felt he had been living in the last two decades. Sure, he loved Miami and he loved his family, but he'd lived there his whole life, gone to university there, started working there. If he wasn't careful, soon he'd find himself getting married and having kids there. He wasn't ready for that. The last year had been different, with the whole porn gig but ever since he'd been told about a company out in California that was hiring adult film talent, he couldn't stop thinking about it. It seemed like the perfect opportunity to get out of the little bubble he lived in. It would be a huge change, that was obvious but he was young, if he didn't do it now, he never would.
At a very young age, Dani knew who she was, dating all the way back to elementary school she knew that she liked both genders. Valentines day was always one of her favorite holidays, something about all the red and pink and love in the air made her feel like she was floating. When she was in forth grade, she had a little crush on another girl in her class, but deep down she knew that if she handed her a valentine that she would be ridiculed by her classmates. When everyone went around passing out their valentines, she took the opportunity when the girl wasn’t looking to slide a secret valentine onto her desk. No one ever saw her do it, but she kept the little secret to herself, unable to hide her toothy grin when she saw the girl read the poem she wrote her. She thought she was in the clear about the card she’d left until someone figured out the handwriting, ultimately outing her and then everyone connected the dots of why she kept it a secret. It was one of the worst days of her life, up until then she never felt like an outsider, but slowly she lost all of her closest friends when word got out about her sexual preference. Back then, it was weird to like the same sex, and it got so bad that Dani had to ask her mom to switch schools. Now, she looks back on the memory with pride, even if she was bullied for who she was, she never changed for anybody.
Greyson’s parents never got married. They were college sweethearts that grew out of love with one another, but not before Greyson’s mom, Violeta, got pregnant with him. They took this situation as, hopefully, a chance to fall in love again and they thought it was going to work because when Greyson was born they felt connected to one another. They chose a Spanish name for his first name and an American one for his middle and decided that he take his mother’s last name. They weren’t married, after all.
Fast-forward four years later and his parents finally deciding to split. All they did was fight and when they weren’t Greyson’s father, David, was nowhere to be found. Neither one of them thought it was fair for them both and Greyson, espeically Greyson, so his father decided to leave. For good.
Greyson was only four when it happened, but he will never forget his father waving back to him before getting into the cab, and then never seeing him again. He didn’t understand why his dad was leaving but he did know something was wrong with it. This image is definitely one that has been engraved in Greyson’s mind and he doubts it’s ever going to leave it.
His love for the game started with T-ball and by the time he was in Little League, Sam was sure he was going to be the starting pitcher for the Houston Astros. Baseball gave him an outlet for his seemingly endless supply of energy and gave his parents hope that most of his summers would be spent outside and not indoors getting into trouble or playing video games all day. Baseball taught him the importance of teamwork, though admittedly Sam was a star, with his natural athletic ability and the hours he put into his game. He was all-city in high school, pitching on the varsity team his sophomore year and captain of the team as a senior.
College scouts courted him, scholarship offers were made, and even a chance to try out for the minors if he wanted to bypass university altogether. For the first time in his life, there was a clear cut path to a successful future, in something he was actually good at...and the idea of something honestly, truly working out for him was overwhelming. Even more so, the thought of failing completely and disappointing his parents, who’d put in so much time, taking him to practices, showing up to his games, buying so many uniforms and baseballs and mitts and everything he needed to get him to that very point. Standing on the pitchers mound during the championship game of his senior year. Scouts in the stands, his family cheering him on. These nerves, they didn’t feel like the good kind, the ones he had before watching a new movie he’d waited on for months, or asking out a girl he’d been crushing on. This was sheer terror, fear of failure smacking him in the face, sinking like a weight in his gut and he felt sick, like he was going to throw up.
Instead, he scrubbed out, losing his nerve in the bottom of the 6th inning and never recovering, allowing too many runs and then it was over. A lifetime of talent and practice, a record of excellence wiped out in a single game. At least to him. It seemed better to burn out, to shift his focus to something else, where he didn’t have to be on display, where there weren’t so many people counting on him, people he’d inevitably disappoint.
The first public place that Dani ever had sex was at an amusement park, she was seventeen and dating some boy, of course short lived, and they decided to break away from their senior trip when they took a trip to Six Flags Great Adventure. At first it was just to ditch the chaperon and go ride different rides, but after the first ride she couldn’t help the adrenaline going through her that they ended up sneaking into a dressing room for the staff’s performers and locking it to get a little quickie in. Luckily the screams of park goers were enough to drown her out and they were able to not get caught, but the rush that it gave her certainly helped spark her attraction to having sex in public.
After Dani began having major mood swings in high school, her teachers became concerned enough to contact her mother to suggest having her go to see a psychiatrist. It was tough, but if there was one person that she would do anything for, it would be her mother. She remembered entering the office with nerves that she could never put into words, every test she had to go through left her feeling sick to her stomach, but eventually she got an answer that began to make more sense as to way she would be a human light switch. He handed her a book about bi-polar disease, a book she spent the rest of the night with her nose in, and one that she often uses in case something feels off. 6 years later and she’s pretty much got herself under control, but she still has the book handy for emergencies.
