Written on a coffee stained napkin, Keaton’s bucket list for the Romantics roadtrip is folded and tucked away in the pocket of a black pair of jeans. Written in his hand writing it reads:
Play new solo song for someone
Go to the Rock and Roll hall of Fame
Visit Strawberry Fields, Central Park
Smoke with Sonny and Nicky
Audition for an amateur night at the Apollo Theater
Fucking feel something
Take everyone to see a show
See a friends show, if we’re in the same city
Get a group tattoo with all the Romantics
Finally let Devon drag me to some dirty, “haunted” place to talk to “ghosts”
Play with Wyatt and Ash again
Get a haircut, maybe donate what I cut to a good cause??
Zip line, probably while stoned
Have fun
Teach someone to play any instrument
Reconnect, don’t run away this time
Find a piano to play
Helicopter ride?
Skydive
Go to Pride
Fill a notebook with music
Learn to snowboard (it’s probably like skateboarding, right??)
Name: Wyatt Anderson
Age: 24
D.O.B.: October 31st
Occupation: Sound Technician (contractor)
Triggers: drugs, verbal abuse, death
Innocence and naivete may not be the first words that come to mind when thinking of Wyatt Anderson, but they used to be the driving forces in a young, starry-eyed boy whose world was filled to the brim with wonder and happiness. Despite his poor upbringing, Wyatt would never say that his childhood had been particularly lacking. Quite the opposite, really.
Raised by a single mother, and a grandfather who tried his best to be a parent once again, Wyatt never knew his biological father. The man had left before his son could be born and the little family never heard from him again. At least not as far as Wyatt is aware. So his only male role model was a grey-bearded, balding man with a cough so bad you’d think the sheer force was about to turn his body inside-out.
The smell of cigar smoke and sweet perfume filled the air in his childhood home, backed up by the scratching of a record player with no more songs to play and the crackling of a TV without a signal. Dancing on the toes of his grandfather, to songs that had their home in black and white movies. Singing at the top of his lungs while playing air guitar, jumping off the couch to crowd-surf on teddy bears. Nostalgia plays a big role in the life a boy whose dreams were shattered thrice over, wishing back on simpler times before the pain began.
First came the death of his grandfather. Hardly any surprise to most, the man had been a known chain-smoker, and yet a devastating loss to Wyatt and his mother. A man who had meant so much to him, had laid the first defining bricks that would shape his personality, had taught him right from wrong was now gone. He was only eight, and yet it felt like his world had ended, kids treating him as if he was made of glass, teachers hesitant to reprimand a child lashing out in grief turned to anger. Pity enough to go around, and yet it was all directed at him.
It wasn’t long after her fathers funeral that Wyatt’s mother turned to drugs for consolation. It started with prescription medication, as it often does, and when the pills ran out she needed something else to get her fix. Now it wasn’t that she did not want to be there for her child, but over time she just naturally became distant. Her smiles were few between and with the need to take on extra work to feed herself and her child, energy to spare became a luxury.
Growing up on takeout and tv dinners meant nothing to Wyatt so long as it meant he got to eat with his mother, to speak with her over a shared meal. Dinner became one of the few times throughout a day when they were able to spend time together at all, and Wyatt often had to make his own lunch in the morning before going to school. It was a poor lifestyle, stressful, but he wouldn’t trade it for anything if it meant his mother would be even more miserable. His one goal in life became to make his mother happy.
So he worked hard in school, got good grades and tried his best to stay out of trouble with the teachers. Avoided dirty looks and snide remarks, turned a deaf ear to those clearly trying to taunt him. He was better than them, and he knew it. Although being better did not make him any richer, and wanting to deeply to make his mother smile it was an eventuality that he would turn to theft. He was ten when he stole his first bouquet of flowers and put it in a jug to surprise his mother with that same night.
Over time it became second nature to take what he wanted and not look back, he would feel sorry for the shopkeepers when they started feeling sorry for his mother, rather than judging her for something she wasn’t wholly at fault for. Maybe he got away with it because he was a kid and people took pity, or maybe he was just that good at sneaking shit out of places unseen, in any case the small house he and his mother shared started to brighten up a bit. When he was 12, he stole his first bigger item: a guitar.
Wyatt’s mother had always enjoyed it when her father and son had danced or sung to older music, and it was this that sparked an idea in the boys mind. When his mother became too reliant on her drugs to keep up two jobs at once, he decided to teach himself to play as a ways of cheering her up. He had to be strong for his mother, had to keep her happy in trying times, just long enough to get her back on her feet. Just long enough that he could finish school and get a job to support her properly. Just until they could get her some help.
But fate would not agree with his plan, because fate is cruel, it takes what it wants and often from those who have nothing to give. It struck like lightning, setting ablaze the life he’d worked so hard to maintain, to support when no one else would help. It was during class one day in sophomore year that Wyatt was called to the principals office, to get the news the his mother had died. An overdose they said. Took more than her body could handle, and then it was just over. It seemed unreal, like a cruel joke. He didn’t want to believe it.
But eventually he had to face reality, having nowhere to stay and no one to look after him. He’d managed to make a few friends in high school, the romantics they were called, and they had become something of a second family to him. Yet it was as though that meant nothing to them when his mother lost her life. At least, it meant nothing to their parents. Everyone except Dylan Crane that was, a girl he may not have been especially close to before, but would grow to consider his closest friend within the next few years.
Dylan’s father offered to take Wyatt in, to let him live with them as part of their family. Never did he feel forced to fit in, but it certainly wasn’t easy to move into a new place, especially one with a daily routine that differed from what he was used to. And while he may have been reluctant at first, verbal fights and slammed doors on the worst of days, he grew to consider Dylan as a sister, and her father as his own.
Any grudge he once held for the other romantics for seemingly leaving him out in the cold has since vanished, as he’s realised that they were only teenagers, with limited power to do anything even if they had wanted to. Not to mention some of them had simply had different ways of helping. Some had stood up for him in the face of those who looked down on his mother, some had offered him the comfort of silence when questions were overwhelming, and some had been there to make everything seem normal again by simply not mentioning the tragedy.
A bit at a time, he found his place among his friends again, made his way back to a familiar role. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for those he called his friends, and he was sure that none of them would abandon him the way society had for so long. That was, until Laurel was taken from them. A loss that came so freshly after the one he’d only just started to recover from, opening up old wounds and adding new ones to the mix.
For Wyatt, there was never any intention of losing contact with the others. He did his best to keep in touch after they’d graduated, brief stays in holding cells keeping him from answering right away every now and then. By the time he finally started to get his act together and look for a “real” job, most of his friends had moved away or otherwise drifted apart. Not that they could be blamed, everyone had their own lives to take care of. It would be selfish of him to demand that they all stick together.
After jumping around between jobs for a bit, Wyatt finally found something that he could call the right one. He began working as a sound technician, working at various local events and venues, slowly building a resume. Having a few stains on his criminal record meant that it was hard to get anything good at first, but with time even some of the larger places felt comfortable contracting him as well, and he began moving around a bit, wherever the job took him. Though he never strayed far from home.
When everyone reunited, at yet another funeral, he was one of the first to agree to a road trip. Adventure had always been in his blood, and nostalgia told him that getting the gang together again would be fun, comforting. At the time he hadn’t really thought much about how the years could have changed them, but now that the trip is beginning, he’s starting to doubt whether he knows these people as well as he thought he did. Simply falling into old habits won’t cut it for him, but how do the others feel about him?
An ambulance was dispatched to a small home near the edge of Ashland, Oregon following a 911 call from a panicked woman stating repeatedly that she was pregnant and “something is wrong”. The EMT’s that arrived on the scene came to an immediate, preconceived notion of the caller upon arriving to the scene. The outside of the house was in shambles. The lawn was overgrown, with weeds reclaiming the land the house stood on. The front windows were both broken, one repaired with garbage bags taped over it, and the other with scrap plywood nailed into the frame. The paint peeled off the side of the house, with no attempts at maintenance on the home. Once they stepped inside, their assumption was affirmed. The home was filthy, and littered with drug paraphernalia. The woman, who was stunning despite her current situation, had track marks along her arms and dilated eyes. A man, who they assumed to be either her husband or boyfriend, lay passed out on the couch. The technician that assisted her to the ambulance wondered if he would wake soon, or if he’d miss out on the birth of his child entirely. As it turned out, he did miss his son’s birth and they were, in fact, addicts. That, cigarettes and alcohol, were the reason why their son, Keaton Dhami, was born premature.
Keaton inherited his mother’s looks. Her warm, tan skin tone, her deep brown eyes, her black unruly hair. He was even given her last name, as opposed to his father’s. Despite Keaton’s early arrival, his birth went without complication. He cried for hours, presumably due to prenatal drug addiction. Keaton had been monitored in the hospital for a few days. His doctor discovered a heart abnormality, likely a result of his mother’s drug abuse and alcohol consumption during pregnancy. Once it was deemed non-life threatening, Keaton and his mother were discharged from the hospital and a very young Keaton was brought into a cruel and terrifying world.
With almost no memories of his early years, Keaton doesn’t quite understand how he even survived them. His earliest memories involved him fending for himself, by cooking microwave meals or pouring his own cereal before walking to school alone. He was sure they fed him when he was too young to do so himself, he just doesn’t remember.
Keaton does remember all the strangers that were always in and out of his life, all the loud music and the nights he’d spend wide awake locked up in a closet to avoid being found. He remembers the three scars on his left arm, from a cigarette a friend of his mother’s decided to poke him with a few times when he was six. The same year, Keaton was diagnosed with ADHD. As he grew up, Keaton was continuously warned that his hearing was also at risk, which was especially concerning considering his choice of hobby. One of the few things he had picked up from his father was his musical talent. Keaton’s father was a percussionist, and Keaton watched him play often. Then, when his father was passed out from excessive drinking or drug use, Keaton would practice. It came almost naturally to him.
Keaton started to use music to cope. To forget, or to let his feelings loose in a productive way. Once Keaton was in school and presented with the opportunity to expand to various other instruments, he flourished. He learned every instrument he could get his hands on, and loved every second of it. He played in concerts, and was given solos in a majority of them. Every time Keaton looked out in the crowd and didn’t find his parents, he tried to convince himself that it didn’t hurt. And eventually, it didn’t. Eventually, he stopped caring about them. Instead, Keaton’s parents’ absence was filled with his friends, and their support was overwhelming. The Romantics, the group of friends that he’d met through the years, mattered most of all.
Keaton avoiding spending more time at home than he had to. He stayed out late with his friends, and left for school early enough to meet the janitor there first thing in the morning. If it wasn’t for Keaton’s music classes and friends, he probably wouldn’t have gone to school at all, and his parents probably wouldn’t notice (or care, for that matter). It wasn’t that he was unintelligent, in fact he was extremely intelligent considering his upbringing. But, rather, that he just didn’t care. Primarily, he did well with support from his friends and music teacher, who bribed Keaton with unbridled access to the band room and any instrument he wanted, if he kept his grades up. Because of this, he sought assistance from the Romantics.
Keaton often dreaded going home after school, occasionally the door would be locked and he’d have to stay with a friend. Otherwise, he would have to spend the evening dealing with his parents’ lifestyle, and all their “friends”. Most notably, their friend Marcus who had been there for as long as Keaton could remember. Keaton had always called him Uncle Marcus, until Keaton was fifteen. Marcus drugged and took advantage of him, and incident that Keaton has told no one about since. Following this, Keaton made excuses to stay with some of the Romantics, or occasionally slept in the shed behind the public library if no one was available.
Before graduation, Keaton had one major skill he was determined to learn. Neither of his parents drove, and even if they did he doubted they’d have the motivation to teach him. He learned later than most, with assistance from a few of his friends. Following graduation and the devastating loss of Laurel Polk, Keaton disappeared. He packed everything he owned in the unreliable car he spent all his busking profits on, and went on the road. It was strange, but Keaton needed a fresh start. He toured with a little band he put together, just playing little shows in bars and tiny venues across the states, living out of his car and crashing on couches along the way. He was a drifter, by his terms. Or homeless, by others’.
One of Keaton’s band mates had lived just outside of Ashland, and the two were talking one night when the band mate showed Keaton an article about a woman that had passed away in Ashland. Keaton knew her, one of his teachers that had helped him get by in school. She was a phenomenal visit, and Keaton felt that the least he could do to thank her was to show up at her funeral. It was there that he ran into the rest of the Romantics again, and planned their almost unbelievable cross country trip in a renovated school bus.
Name: Jesse Noah Caldwell
Age: Twenty-Five
Birthday: November 10th
Label: The Cynic
Occupation: Bartender
Hometown: Ashland, Oregon
Current Residence: Oahu, Hawaii
Positive traits: protective, trustworthy, intelligent
Negative traits: moody, unpredictable, sarcastic
Trigger Warnings: neglect, violence, alcohol abuse, death
not so simpler times
Jesse would never describe the early years of his life as bad, it wasn’t the greatest, but it definitely wasn’t awful. His parents relationship was constantly on the rocks, which meant he didn’t always receive the same level of care and nurturing he needed. But it never effected him much, they never let their issues spill over in front of their son, and for the most part they provided everything a young boy needed. However the innocent eyes of a child can pick up the smallest of details, and Jesse quickly learned his parents weren’t like most. His father a stronghold for their family, but a man that was constantly searching for more. Longing for the many lives he wasn’t living, with other people, in different places. It didn’t take a genius to know that Luke Caldwell had packed his bags in the middle of the night and almost left many times. Jesse had woken up to the front door opening and his father walking out of it, more than a handful of times. But he was always there at the breakfast table in the morning with a look of regret on his face.
Paisley Caldwell however was a woman that acted on impulse, a trait that Jesse himself inherited. She’d had a million different jobs, spent money they didn’t have and was what most would call a serial cheater. More than anything she was focused on herself, on what she wanted, when she wanted it and didn’t bother much with what that meant for anyone else. She was always drunk or on her way to being so, which exposed Jesse to a lot from a young age. But it never really dampened his spirits as much as it made him grow up a lot quicker. He’d get himself to and from school, make himself breakfast, pack his lunch and put himself to bed at a reasonable time every night. More than anything he was a boy that grew up with housemates more than parents, but that was okay. He loved them dearly and sometimes they loved him too.
When Jesse was eleven, he came home from school to a screaming match between his parents that he’d never seen before. The result of this fight, his mother filing for divorce and stating she wanted to make a new life with someone else. His father didn’t put up a fight, after all the man had been looking for this out for a long time. That night Jesse’s father packed his bags while everyone slept, and left in the family car, never to return. It was after that when Jesse met the new man in his mothers life, and the son that came with him. The young boy hated Sebastian at first, declaring war on this new enemy and vowing to make their lives a living hell. More than a few times their house erupted in an argument, and more often than not a physical fight between the two boys. Jesse started getting into trouble at school, started talking back, causing waves. Skipping class, picking fights, being an all round awful kid.
This carried on to high school, where Jesse wasn’t only getting in trouble at school and home, but rather with the police on top of it. He’d lost an innocent hope and wanted to punish the world. He was that kid that kept to himself, didn’t say much, but would go off and deface the teachers cars during class. He’d gotten into a relationship with a girl that was just as much trouble as he was and together they raised hell. Soon enough she was shipped off with her parents, but the two remained in a long distance relationship. Sebastian and Jesse began getting on better after agreeing that their parents were walking disaster and to simply survive they needed to rely on each other.
Queue Devon Prescott. He’d known her since middle school, and they’d almost instantly become friends. But as they grew older it became more obvious that they couldn’t deny what was really going on. That these lingering feelings weren’t just going away, and once they reached high school they kind of had to come to terms with it. Which left Jesse in a position between being with Devon and holding onto his long time/ long distance girlfriend. A decision that loomed over him for a long time and that he didn’t actually make until graduation approached. Unfortunately for him, he made the choice a fraction too late, and Devon was gone. He’d lost the one person that he cared about more than anything.
a kinda fresh start
After Laurel’s tragic death, graduation and Devon leaving, it wasn’t hard for Jesse to decide what he wanted out of life. To get the fuck out of Ashland, and away from anyone he’d ever known. Away from his mother, away from his friends, away from his crippling reputation. So he packed his bag, told his mother he was leaving (which she didn’t seem too disappointed about), and got the next plane to Hawaii. Upon arriving, he found a little place to rent, got a job and began a new life. The main appeal of Hawaii was the fact it was a massive tourist destination, which meant he could have a revolving door of strangers. No attachments, no connections, no familiar faces, but a never ending stream of people that knew nothing about him. He had a new job every week, from a boat mechanic to a tour guide, he did it all. However it all landed him a nice job at a little bar in the city and that was where he stayed.
Jesse had a long string of new relationships with different woman, none of which lasted more than three months before he broke it off. He got drunk every other night, ran in social circles with the wrong people and in general lived a less than glamorous life. He filled himself up with temporary fixes, and told everyone he was living the life. His rap sheet slowly got longer and longer, with petty crimes and drunken mistakes. From assault charges, to theft, to public nuisance. He ended up in jail more than a few times and began to rack up a nasty debt with the bail bondsman. Which left Jesse on the receiving end of a few nasty ‘warnings’ to pay the money he owed. One of which he now has to live with in the form of a hand that tremors and malfunctions.
Called back to Ashland, Jesse had a plan. Avoid his mother, avoid his old friends, attend the funeral and return to his normal life. But that plan didn’t exactly work out, and after agreeing to the road trip, Jesse had to put his life on hold for a while. Had to give this thing a shot, because if he didn’t, he’d only regret returning to his less than happy life and not at least trying.
Being the new kid can always be hard. Being the new kid halfway through sixth grade is and was even harder. Juda grew up in Western Vancouver but when his father had the opportunity to become the medical director at the Ashland Hospital, Juda and his family packed their things and moved to the US. He entered middle school in the spring semester. All of the new middle school friend groups had been established and everyone, especially Juda, was insecure. Without any pre-established friends Juda kept a low profile. He ate lunch in his history teacher’s classroom and used excessive school work as an excuse for spending weekends at home. While is parents were concerned they couldn’t complain. Juda’s grades were amazing and at every parent teacher conference the teachers would rave about how polite, intelligent and empathetic he was. While his parents did apply some academic pressure on him, Juda’s passion for learning and need to excel was largely internal.
It was his curiosity that ultimately led him to meeting Laurel Polk. They had an art class together in eighth grade. Juda and Laurel had been paired together to make a collage using magazine scraps. They ended up bonding over a only-slightly cut up National Geographics magazine feeding off each other’s love for the world and the cultures that compose it. Juda didn’t expect the friendship to last after that class but come the fall of high school Laurel stuck around. She found him in the hallway and started to introduce him to the other members of The Romantics. He had known of most of them before and knew a decent amount about them; you learn a lot when you listen instead of speaking. While some of these new friends weren’t kids he, or his parents, would expect to hang out with he relished in finally having some friends from this century.
It was also around this time when parties went from backyard birthdays to basement spin the bottle games. It was during a game of truth or dare where someone challenged another person to kiss their crush. Juda watched as two of his friends started to kiss. It made him uncomfortable. Not because it was a sloppy freshman year kiss, although that put him on edge as well but because he desperately hoped he wouldn’t get called out to do the same. Something in his gut was telling him that kissing any of his girl friends there wasn’t what he wanted to do. It was a similar feeling to when he turned down weed from Sonny for the first time that but more instinctual. It wasn’t long after that he realized that he was gay. The realization came somewhere between watching the male gymnasts at the Beijing Olympics and getting tongue tied whenever Keaton Dhami talked to him in their freshman year geometry class. Soon after that he came out to very little surprise from his friends and family. His parents were more than supportive as was his little sister, Tessa. His mom even tried to start a PFLAG group at a PTA meeting which Juda quickly shut down out of parental embarrassment. Normally it would take Juda a much longer time to make such a big transition but he knew at his core he couldn’t sit through another round of anxiety inducing truth or dare or spin the bottle.
Whenever someone comes out during high school it’s going to spread. Juda wasn’t ready for the extra attention. While there was definitely some bad moments, snide remarks in the hallways and weird glances from overcompensating straight dudes, overall some Juda felt safe with himself. The Romantics all had his back and he felt closer to them now that he didn’t make up excuses to not go to parties. He was fortunately not alone either. Ezra Greene had been out since middle school which still blows Juda’s mind seeing how awkward middle school already was for him. Juda and Ezra had gotten close almost immediately when Laurel introduced them. Juda thinks Laurel was trying to set them up even before he officially came out. The two boys were constantly throwing flirtatious jabs at one another and started to hang out a lot that following summer. Juda knew he had feelings for Ezra but was too proud to truly admit it and too nervous to really do anything about it. When Ezra kissed him in the boys bathroom that next school year everything changed. They started dating right away and for a while it was some of Juda’s happiest moments. The relationship ended mutually. Ezra didn’t want the commitment and Juda became hyper focused on college applications and AP classes. They remained extremely close and tended to end the weekend nights back with one another.
The next two years of school were a whirlwind for Juda. He became so focused on his school work and getting into a good college that he never fully enjoyed the Romantics for everything they were. He was friends with everyone but couldn’t devote the time to patrying and after school McDonald’s runs. His hard work all paid off though when he got his acceptance letter to Stanford followed by the announcement that he was going to be the class valedictorian.
The night before graduation, while many people were out celebrating, Juda was putting the final touches on his speech and rehearsing it over with his family in their living room. When he got the news about Laurel everything changed. That next day, he was one of the only Romantics to attend the ceremony. He went out of obligation and only obligation however he only made it through a couple lines before breaking down running off the stage.
Juda doesn’t remember the summer leading up to college. He remembers the funeral and a few small attempts at having the Romantics get together but it went by quickly and before he knew it he was traveling to Stanford. It was a needed change of pace. He could zero in on his studies and isolate his emotions. At school, he took his passion for people and the world and majored in Social and Cultural anthropology. He made a smaller group of friends, mainly other anthropology students, and explored his sexuality more. He had two semi-consistent hookups but the first quickly became an asshole and the other ended when the older guy graduated. He had always wanted to study abroad but feared leaving the little home at school he had just settled into.
Juda’s academic masochism continued at Stanford. He was constantly throwing himself into new projects and locking himself in the library. His backpack was always weighed down by at least two textbooks. During his second year he started to use caffeine pills to stay awake and alert. At first it was only for finals or big projects but come senior year he was taking them regularly for assignments. He kept his frequent usage from his college friends and especially the Romantics he keeps up with. He doesn’t want them to think less of him, an inherent guilt he feels but is too proud to admit. While after college he uses these pills much less he does keep a bottle of them with him for times when he needs a boost.
After graduating he took a job as a research assistant at the Burke Museum of Natural History and Culture. One of his professor recommended him for the position knowing a collegue in Seattle. With the professor’s shining reference and Juda’s impressive resume the museum was happy to have him. Juda loves the job. He gets to research and learn about all of the new exhibits that come in and find innovative ways to display that information. It’s his own way of seeing the world. While he loves this job he has begun to consider grad school. His mentor at the museum is encouraging it as Juda has expressed wanting to be a curator himself. However, an old professor has offered him an opportunity to travel to Belize with her for an archeological dig. It would be a year long experience that Juda knows would be incredible. He fears the huge change though. Grad school make sense. It is practical. Belize is out of left field and a huge change.
Juda is taking this road trip as an opportunity to travel and get comfortable being uncomfortable. This will be his first time traveling for a long period of time and the first time he would see a large part of the country outside of books and documentaries. He is optimistic but has of course over-prepared for the worse. What he does know is that he will be happy to reconnect with all his friends.
NAME: greyson matthews.
AGE: twenty-five.
OCCUPATION: book store employee / ghostwriter.
LABEL: the writer.
TIGGERS: mental illness / depression / anxiety, drug abuse, mental abuse.
EVERYTHING I CAN’T REMEMBER, AS FUCKED UP AS IT ALL MAY SEEM.
There was a time when things seemed pretty perfect for one Greyson Matthews, a time, he’d go back in time for if that was even remotely possible. He had a loving mother and father who gave him all their attention being that he was their only child. It seemed like the young boy was the only thing that mattered to the newly married couple. He was everything they’d been asking for. Greyson was a happy child for the most part, he threw his tantrums like any young kid, he had his flaws, but for the most part he was a well-behaved child. He was like any other kid, playing catch with his dad, letting his mother guide his hand while she wrote in cursive, smiling, laughing, and loving. Things were normal. There wasn’t anything special or outstanding about their family. They weren’t one of a kind or amazing, they were just your everyday average family but it was simple and easy.
When Greyson was around the age of six and seven he started to notice things change a little. His mother was a lot more distant while his father had much more on his plate. Doing everything for Greyson he could. Even at the young age he could tell that his father looked drained and his mother looked as if she wasn’t really there. Not being able to put the pieces together Greyson went on with his little life like he’d always had. Shaking off any feelings he got that something was wrong. He was little, he just wanted to have fun. That was until his eighth birthday. Greyson woke up that morning with the widest smile on his face but it was all taken away from him when finding out that his mother, Emily Matthews was gone. Everything changed that day. His family wasn’t simple anymore, it was broken and it didn’t take long for him to put that together despite the young age. He went from what he felt was a perfect family, to a home without a mother and a father who began distancing himself as well.
Growing up in a home without a mother and a father that didn’t want anything to do with him. Greyson quickly learned that he was alone. It was ironic being that he’d depended on his mother and father so much and just like that he felt like he had no one. Things began getting worse between Greyson and his father Blake Matthews. He started to blame Greyson for the reason his wife lost herself and left, he also blamed Greyson for the way he drank, and the sadness he felt. That having a lot to do with the fact that Blake saw a lot of his his wife in his son. On the opposite spectrum, It was hard for the boy to be abandoned by someone that was supposed to love him but to also have someone else that was supposed to love him put so much blame on him. The worst part was, Greyson started to believe it and it only got worse with time. When Greyson was in his teens, he spent most of his time locked in his room. As much as he didn’t want to fear his father, he did. The man manipulated things into his head so much Greyson himself felt like he was going insane.
Writing was something Greyson had always had an interest in. Possibly because his mother had journals full of poems left all around their home and there was something real and haunting about them that Greyson gravitated towards. Then there was the fact that he’d always been a very imaginative person. Being an only child, he had to be creative, he’d imagine these worlds he could get lost in and that never really change as he got into his teenage years. The best parts about being home became the moments he’d lock himself in his bedroom and write, either writing about something to help him escape or writing about the realness he felt. Writing what he felt was the only outlet Greyson had to say how he felt, even if it wasn’t to anyone. His father didn’t want to listen and Greyson became used to holding things in. He started to tell himself that what he had to say wasn’t important but when he wrote, he was able to put every emotion on the page in full detail. No matter how dark or sad it was.
Another place Greyson felt he was able to escape was when he went to school. Greyson had never been an overachiever, he didn’t over work, he didn’t do anything that’d make him stand out but once high school came around, despite keeping to himself as much as he did, it didn’t stop LAUREL POLK to take notice and take him under her wing. If it wasn’t for her patients and resistance, Greyson probably wouldn’t have made his way into what people deemed as The Romantics. Being a part of such a big friend group felt nice to Greyson, he wasn’t the center of attention being that the group was so big and he got to be around people that he actually enjoyed being around. Greyson started to come out of his shell slightly, he was still one of the more quite ones of the bunch but it seemed to do pretty well for him.
One of the people that stood out to Greyson was COOPER MATHIS, the two hit it off instantly. Greyson was able to be himself around the other male, no matter how negative, sad, happy, and so-on he felt, he felt a connection to Cooper and they were quick to become best friends. Another person that stood out to Greyson was CARMEN STRODE, as soon as he saw the girl he immediately started crushing on her. At that age Greyson was naive and he happened to also be a hopeless romantic, possibly the worst combination ever. It made it almost impossible for him to drop a crush he thought was completely hopeless and not going anywhere other than friends. Sophomore year things began to change and Carmen and Greyson became a couple. Totally surprised that she’d want to be with someone like him, Greyson felt happy and didn’t give himself the chance to talking himself out of something good that had happened to him.
He put his all into his relationship with Carmen or he put in as much as he was able to. Greyson had issues when it came to really opening up about himself. He struggled with confidence issues, and self-worth. He had a hard time talking about things that were wrong with him like his depression and his anxiety. That being said, even though he did anything and everything for his girlfriend, he was still closed off and that wasn’t good for any relationship. Not that Greyson was completely perfect in other ways, he had a few flaws, he was and is a good guy and would put everyone before himself. Greyson is the type of guy that would take a bullet for someone he cares about but he could also be negative about things, although, he’d more than likely bite his tongue if he knew it would upset Carmen. In Greyson’s view of his first serious relationship, he felt he fell in love and he felt it was it for him. Greyson had blinders on when it came to his relationship with Carmen. Complete tunnel vision, never letting himself see any of the cracks that were obviously there. It wasn’t until senior year that Carmen had broken up with him that he started to see the cracks.
After the breakup Greyson started to change slightly. He started to learn from his naivety and started to realize he had to be more of a realist about things. In a way, maybe getting his heartbroken was for the better? That same year was the year Laurel passed away. It seemed it was one bad thing after another and Greyson shut off and pulled away from everyone for the most part. Laurel really was the glue of the group and Greyson just wanted to run. He really was his mothers son.
THE CONSEQUENCES THAT I RENDERED, STRETCHED MYSELF BEYOND MY MEANS.
Fast forward a few years and you’ll catch Greyson living in a crappy studio apartment. Keeping his job at the book store he had worked at since he was a teenager, Greyson also started ghostwriting for different people. He knew he’d always told himself that he wanted to write a book of his own one day but when it came to head, he couldn’t get himself to write something he wanted others to see and know it was him. Ghostwriting seemed like the best bet in someone like Greyson’s opinion. Minus not living up to what he wanted to do with his life, Greyson had cut the cord with most of what was his life. He didn’t talk to his father, he hardly spoke to any of the romantics, with the exception of potentially Cooper. Greyson isolated himself and in a way the isolation just made him worse. He was back to feeling completely alone and the worst part was, it was his fault.
Unable to deal with everything in his head, Greyson turned to different types of pills. Abusing them to try and stop whatever it was that he couldn’t stop in his head. On the outside, Greyson didn’t seem too troubled. He seemed like a struggling writer with classic messy hair, a heartbreak outlook, and so-on. He also seemed like a dorky, shy, and sweet person. He became great at playing a character. Hiding the things he didn’t want anyone to see. It wasn’t that Greyson wasn’t all those things but there were times he felt he wasn’t actually living his life. He felt as if he was just watching this version of himself walk around and interact and react to different people or things. He felt lost and didn’t truly know who he was or what he wanted.
When finding out that one of his teachers had passed away, Greyson went to the funeral. It was then he bumped into the romantics again and despite some of the anxiousness he felt seeing them again. It was good to see them. Everyone was different yet the same and it brought back all the good memories they had. That being said, it made it pretty impossible for Greyson to turn down Sonny’s offer to go on a road trip with the whole gang. It seemed like a great idea at the time. It also seemed like something Greyson needed. He had to run from his life, he needed time to breath and get away. Maybe even find himself again? It seemed like the best opportunity. Despite the past coming to light and the possibility of getting car sick.
IT’S BEEN AWHILE SINCE I COULD HOLD MY HEAD UP HIGH.
hogwarts house: hufflepuff (but he probably tells people gryffindor if he wants to seem cool)
MBTI: INFP
aesthetic: apple headphones, ripped jeans, skinned knees, jean jackets, enamel pins.
you’re gonna go far kid ( some deeper stuff)
Ash has an unshakeable belief that things are going to work out. Growing up, his mom struggled with the single parent thing? His abuela moved in with them and things got better. He graduated high school without any plans? He found a group of guys getting the hell out of dodge to see what the world could offer them. He is a real silver lining kind of guy.
Ash didn’t do terribly in school, but he wasn’t at the top of the class either. He was probably a solid B/C student.
Ash is bisexual. His first boyfriend was one of the guys he left town with originally. They didn’t work out, but they’re still friends.
Ash plays bass and sings backup vocals in a garage band. He’s not necessarily great at it, but he loves it and he has so much fun onstage on the rare occasion they get to play in public.
I think Ash really wants to be a fun dad someday. Not now, but he loves kids and thinks it’d be a blast to have some of his own.
Ash has no idea what he wants to do for a real career and the fact that he’s 24 without a solid plan scares him sometimes, even if he would never admit it.
high school never ends (possible connections)
past romantic partners/hookups: in high school he would have only had serious relationships with ladies, but it’s possible that one of the guys crashed on the couch in his loft and something happened then, i’m pretty open to whatever for these!
“pen pal”: someone Ash kept in contact with after high school and sent postcards from places he stayed, checked in with on FB or via text pretty often but maybe didn’t see.
tattoo buds: Ash loves tattoos and has a goal to get at least 3 of the romantics to get tattoos with him during their trip.
fellow pop punk trash: someone he can scream the words to blink-182 songs with and check out local band gigs every now and then to jump around and dance. he’ll keep them safe if there’s a mosh pit.
honestly i’m up for all sorts of connections! hit me up here on tumblr im or on discord to plot and love on my sunshiney boy. <3
