ASK ME TO STAY.

aesthetic: black leather, brown boots, cigarette hanging from plump lips, dark aviators with gold rims, palo santo, plush carpets, golden sunlight reflected off dusty surfaces, matte metal flask, sleek wood, brick walls, guitar case, fat passport with fraying edges, b&w photos

i took the little song choice super seriously so he’s pretty much from goddamn L.A because of the goddamn song, i literally hate me

he is the illegitimate son of a washed up actress of yesteryear, VICTORIA MERCHANT she was the IT girl back in the day, but alas! scandal hit, and she became irrelevant save for the occasional “where are they now?” tabloid feature.

i mean she had him with a dude ( a european photographer ) she wasn’t married to while married to someone else & this was the era where everybody loved to paint women badly the moment they make one mistake.

therefore he SORT OF grew up out of the spotlight, he doesn’t look anything like the bundled up toddler in his mother’s arms the tabloid used to shade her with anymore.

if he does get recognised, it’s usually with much skepticism, and it’s easy to brush them off

he has an odd relationship with his mother — it’s certainly not conventional, it’s difficult to contend with the shadow of her existence looming over him everywhere he goes. she may be irrelevant now, but people still know her name and will talk about her like she’s some long lost lover. 

has two half-sisters ( his mother’s LEGITIMATE children ) they have an okay relationship. the world’s okay-est siblings tbh.

he is also a decent cook

he moved out at 16 because why not — struck out on his own, so don’t expect him to be a glamour-freak, he’s independent, standards might be a little higher but hey give the guy a break, everyone around him was rich

but he’ll still live in a trailer eating skittles and bacon for breakfast over a beverly hills mansion any day

to be fair he had the life you’d think he’d have... teenager off on his own, the wild times, parties, drinking, sex.

it was easy to play into the dirtbag trope, steal a man’s girl for kicks, just to see if he could swing it, but that stuff gets old.

now he’s just jaded by that life, and has decided to have standards ( he has a very strange definition of standards though )

he loves being not-famous in LA (not)

very very difficult to get to know — he is reserved, enigmatic, borderline a permanent grump, but you didn’t hear that here

vindictive — this one bears grudges. selective grudges. he has rot in his bones and he allows it to consume him, stewing in resentment, building the sediment and coal, biding his time until a match is lit one day 

he’s in vegas and at the motel because he’s trying to write music and damn friends and mother won’t leave him the fuck alone, but this doesn’t mean you’ll always hear him from his room and doesn’t mean he’s trying to make it big — his reasons are a little more complicated

it’s not going very well, the desert is strange, but he’s only just got here so who knows