#joelee

Character Information: Name: Joe Lee Group/Occupation: GVO, Rapper, YouTuber Do you para?: Yeah

Come by Milk Gallery to see the SVA MPS Graduate Fashion Photo Exhibition

Name: Jullian Hadamik

Age: Same as Noelee

Relationship: Ex-love-of-her-life

Occupation: Unknown

"Without me, his world will keep on turning. A world that's full of happiness that I have never known! I love him, I love him, I love him... but only on my own."

"Through the breezy night and dark shadow casting everywhere except around them the blonde seventeen year old boy wondered if it was really possible to know someone more then you know yourself. Knowing someone like the back of your hand, was the phrase, but was it conceivable or just an exaggeration to knowing someone enormously, but not enough."

"His voice was mellow and calm, speaking to speak, it held no argument or anger or sarcasm to joke back to her, his voice was serious, it was fate whenever they met because that’s just how it was supposed to be. Noelee and Jullian, Jullian and Noelee, when they spoke it was natural because it was fate, that he knew but wouldn’t express to her."

"They would find someone else, other people, another person to hold their heart and place band-aids on all the cracked parts they hit, but if Noelee had used tape, it would have healed him more, just because it was her touch rather than another’s."

"It’s easy to fall in love, to meet someone and drop to their feet, to let someone consume your brain with no protest, but falling out of love, that was hard, that was impossible, and god forbid it be real love, real love you can never shake off. It sticks to you like scars, never fading, stays with you in memories, you cannot see it but it is always there, hiding filed away, peeking out occasionally, forbidding you from ever having anything real again. You subconsciously compare every person you meet after that to the very one that stalks your entire being, no one seems to measure up, and had they be prettier, funnier, more outgoing, had they have more things in common with you, know you inside out, had they be the perfect person for you nothing would change because they still could not compare, they could not touch you like your true other."

"Jullian along the years of living had faced a wide black book of agony, internal and external, bright morning and nocturnal, from his first lycan morphing to his first paper cut, he had endured so much as a human but surprisingly remained humble and caring. With all that he still hadn’t managed to feel the kind of pain that was filling in his body, pouring into the empty spaces he tried to fill with a love full of lies that, now, was crumbling before his very own."

"In that second he had his eyes glued to her, before pulling away, he couldn’t help but notice how fake her features must have been. Her eyes looked so honest, so caring, so destroyed, so real, so real they were phony. Even her skin appeared stolen, the arch of her chin and the light tan her skin held even in the dark, they were all counterfeit, and she had lifted them from someone else. Jullian knew this someone, he had met her once before, he had watched her grow up from a young first year to a beautiful young woman, but before she had looked too factual, her mind was tangible and he could feel her and not expect her to break like porcelain as she would now, a painted glass replica of a girl he had once known and loved."

"Everything was too fake to be real and he knew that as much as they promised themselves that without each other they could be as strong and precious as expensive stones they would come out in the end as imitations, forged and foreign."

"Just like that, with the wind he had walked off, a decent times strut to the door and down the steps, the repetitive echo of his shoes against the stairs growing lighter and fainter with the farther away he got. He had left her there, the colored line papers blowing around at her feet."

"The silence around them seemed too loud, his ears began to hurt and his skin began to shiver but he grabbed her face roughly in his palms; he hadn't touched her like this in a while." 

GINGER:

"Sweet, her face, her soft expression while she lay on the bed leaning her back against the window, was sweet. Her lips was pursed at a magazine, her expression bitter and interested, but without the bitter the sweet isn’t as sweet, and the ginger isn’t as worth it."

" It was as natural as the roots where the ginger formed, growing through the ground and stretching and aching like his beating heart."

" It was instant, the two did not have to grow and blossom back into love, it was something they never let go of, a root that was never pulled out and was now blooming again."

"But she was not fully ginger, she was not oddly shaped with a rough touch, she was not ugly and untouched, and she looked nothing but beautiful to the blonde boy in her silk nightgown with her legs crossed."

"The new ring on his finger, left hand three down from the thumb it sat, the silver glistening in the small light of the room was not regretted. She, his girl, his woman, as she had always been, was not regretted. And what he planned to do tonight, to lay milk on ginger, to mix its contents and make a honeyed, bitter, natural concoction with the two, would not be regretted either, he could not regret her."

'Usually the older a person gets the more worn out they look, the more experienced, all the more tired and pained and wise, because they have lived enough years to experience, breathed enough breaths to feel that coaxing twist in their lungs at certain moments. Those moments when everything was out of reach and uncontrollable, when your fingers begin to glide off of the fabric of an event or emotion so smoothly, so quickly that you lacked the spare seconds it took to regain grip. Those moments, those scary moments that nor burdened as they did brighten, where either good or bad, either killed or pleasured, or both in one."

"Only this time these feelings had nothing to do with how aged and experienced the man was, because he had been feeling these strikes for ages on in, since his teenage years and young heartbreak, it was more painful than the pulling and ripping he felt as he morphed, it was far more superior, it affected him far more as well. It was love."

"And losing her, to lose her again, his lungs couldn’t take that kind of pain; they would give out from right inside him, his ribcage breaking at the impact."