INTRODUCING…
name: david bellworth
faceclaim: tyriq withers
age: 27
gender & pronouns: cis man & he/him
occupation: volunteers at the community center
DIG DEEPER…
THEN: ever the skeptic, always the one daring to push back and question their namesake, society, conformity. the fact that those thoughts came after smoking a joint is besides the point.
every legacy family needed its scandal, and the birth of david francis solidified what everyone knew to be true: the bellworth name was a double-edged sword. david walked a tight line, back then. the legitimacy of his birth and his birthright questioned, even when his father, carrying the bellworth name, proudly walked alongside their family and married his mother the same year it became legal. this kind of turbulence shaped david’s viewpoint of the world. first, there were questions. then, understanding. somewhere after came the frustration. which caused him to start acting out in ways that were subtle, but intentional. testing the boundaries of what being a bellworth meant in this town, and if those same privileges were extended to him.
since the white-washed version of family & tradition wasn’t david’s style, he had “freedom” in the sense that not many people (besides his immediate family) expected a whole lot out of him. so, he tried his hand at a bunch of things. school was fine, but he found most of his teachers dull & uninspiring. the extra-curriculars were where he shined. social clubs, academic-based groups, sports. it allowed him to be a chameleon of sorts, blending in with different cliques, always looking, searching for his people. of course, there were some constants — should i stay or should i go being a big one — but for the most part, david never kept a large group of friends for too long. people always wanted something, and he could see that. proximity to his family. access to his home. it turned his natural curiosity about life into a jaded cynicism before he knew it was even happening. a double-edged tongue and his growing anxiety kept him a distance from most people who didn’t bother to try and understand. praise be for mary jane.
NOW: justifiably paranoid, held together by the red string used to connect clues. they can’t escape what happened, letting the search for answers consume them instead.
on bad days, when he can’t find a way to get out of bed & the guilt feels just a little too thick in house throat to swallow down, david replays that night back in ‘78 over & over & over. the adrenaline pumping in his veins that whole night, losing their way and finding it again, the entity breaking loose, the chaos of the retreat, running alongside teddy — no, he was pulling her along when they — no, no, he lost her and was going to go find her, but — fuck. fuck. fuck. blame it on a decade of weed or a trauma he’s yet to fully unearth, but the year teddy disappeared put a weight on david that he hadn’t expected. sure, they’d seen each other at family gatherings & had brief conversations in passing at school, but they weren’t ever friends. but with his closest friend now grown close with his cousin of all people, facing the reality of that night and trying to reconcile with the truth of today is a weight that all the ndas in the world couldn’t dare keep quiet.
in a way that he might’ve been searching for himself before, david’s as clear as he’ll ever be about who he is now. he doesn’t apologize for saying what’s on his mind, he moves throughout the town, his town, like he owns the place. and in some ways, he does. the bellworth name might’ve meant something to thomas back in the fuckin 1800s, but here, present day? david feels a conviction that something has to be done about all the fucked up shit that’s been swept away for too long. so much blood soaked in the soil of the town at this point, it’s a miracle he hasn’t moved away for good. but he knows that he can’t actually move on until he finds what he’s looking for. these days, he’s volunteering most of his time on staff at the community center — coach, lifeguard, custodian. literally whatever they need that day. it started as a vanity title, really, something to keep him busy, but it’s become something he actually looks forward to. the north end is the best end, because it’s the last real piece of the place he knows all too well. mayor donovan can slap a new coat of paint on bellworth crossing all he wants, but the shit still stinks. and david’s gonna prove it.
THE GIFT OF THE FINAL HOUR...
ACTIVE: when someone near them is going to die, they can sense it. they get a sinking feeling in their stomach, a quiet realization in the back of their brain that something is nearing its end.
INACTIVE: their intuition becomes unreliable. they dismiss warning signs and brush off what they’ve previously called dangerous. they assume things are safer than they really are.
TIE TO THE INCIDENT...
teddy bellworth, cousin. despite sharing a family name, the differences between the two have always been obvious. one has always been the talk of the town, the shining light and the kind of person to aspire to. then there’s the other side of the coin, never quite living up to the family name. where teddy’s side was put on a pedestal, the pendulum swung in the opposite direction for their extended family. a resentment wedged between them, practically a birthright, only made worse through time and trauma. when teddy moved inward, their cousin’s frustration grew, both knowing exactly why: teddy is the key to getting real answers about what happened that night, even if she doesn’t remember it.
CONNECTIONS...
burning down the house, messy duo. for the longest time, the two were convinced they had nothing in common. what similarities could even exist between someone at the top of the food chain and someone too faded to care about the food chain in the first place? time has passed, and now they’re able to find common ground, mostly under the influence of… whatever they can find. sure, they don’t always bring out the best in each other, but they’re having fun, so who cares? (the world. the world cares. their loved ones care too. everyone would be so much safer if they stayed apart. but where’s the fun in that?)
under pressure, opposites attract. when they’re in public, they’re borderline antagonistic to each other. they disagree on everything—what decisions to make, how to present themselves in the world, everything. when they’re in private? the chemistry is too intense to deny. there’s an element of care between them that’s grown over nights spent under the covers and kind words whispered in the heat of passion. it’s one that they’d vehemently deny if anyone called them out on it, but it’s there nonetheless, causing both of them to wonder if maybe, just maybe, they could be something more, something real. and then one of them talks, and reminds the other exactly why they can’t.
should i stay or should i go, childhood friend. they’ve known each other for as long as either of them can remember, a friendship that started in childhood and somehow lasted through the years. growing up side by side meant sharing the small moments that shaped them: long afternoons, inside jokes, and the quiet familiarity that only comes from years of knowing someone at their most unfiltered. through every shift in their lives, that bond has remained steady. there’s an easy trust between them, the kind that doesn’t need much explanation or effort to maintain. no matter how much the world around them has changed, their friendship has always felt like something solid, a rare constant in the middle of everything else.
heart of glass, like-mind. even after the hush money, ndas, and bogus cover story the government pushed, the mutual thought between the two was that they needed answers. it wasn't clear how to get them, or if they ever would, but they had to try. in the decade that passed, both never gave up hope on trying to find information about or answers for the things they saw that night, for whatever the hell it was that they stumbled into. some could call it an obsession, while others may see it as admirable. it doesn't matter if a year, a decade, or a century have passed—these two will still find themselves shoulder to shoulder, sifting through any evidence they can find.
