Post by neil patrick torres on Jan 14, 2013 15:55:15 GMT -5
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[style=width:350px; font-family: josefin sans; font-size: 30px; letter-spacing: 0px; text-align:center; color: #000; line-height: 80%; text-transform: uppercase; padding-bottom: 5px;]NEIL PATRICK TORRES
CRIMINAL. JESSIE. RYAN GOSLING. THEIF/CAFE OWNER. TWENTY-FIVE. CONFUSED. CHARMING. INTELLIGENT.
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,386,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, width:130px; height: 200px; background-image: url(http://24.media.tumblr.com/2210272006f9a58394a87c9df60886f6/tumblr_mgmu7v0BNp1r2w363o6_250.jpg);][/style] | [style=height: 180px; overflow: auto; font-size: 9px;]i was born on a typical rainy day. dublin is rather famous for its rain, and it would be unusual for someone to be born on a sunny day. my mum, katherine, died in childbirth. i’m just going to be blunt about it. there really is no reason to beat around the bush; it’s just my history. i don’t want any tears; they seem rather useless unless you can change the past. if you can, well, chop chop. but considering you’re probably just an average joe, i don’t expect much. anyways, my father took on the role of being my mother and father. his name is also neil, but we refer to him as patrick. we have the same names, which also confuse people, but it just makes our bond stronger. patrick put the vice president in charge of the publishing company, write way, and decided that being around for my childhood was more important than earning millions of dollars a year. i owe everything to my da, but i won’t be admitting that anytime soon. it was always implied i would take over the family business, and with my father opening another publishing company here in sapphire bay, it seemed right to take it over. my childhood, from what i remembered, revolved around traveling to different countries and rugby games. oh, rugby is my passion. i adore it to the extreme. there’s actually a league here in sapphire bay i joined and the guys there are pretty nice. patrick remarried when i turned seven. her name was annie, a redhead secretary that had apparently been with my father from before the tragic death of my mother. i have inklings there may have been an affair before the death, but i’m not planning on saying anything. it doesn’t seem in my place. patrick has his own secrets and i know that one day i will have my own secrets. annie is really nice, always cooking and making it seem as though everything is alright. she rebuilt my father into someone who can work and come home to dinner every night. what annie didn’t bother to tell any of us is who she was involved with. it wasn’t until i turned eleven that i found out who she spent the majority of her time with. the irish mafia, controlled by the sewlyns, wormed their way into our lives. i hate them. i really do. i just can’t leave. annie was in trouble, my father paid them off, and they keep digging into our pockets. patrick and annie hate them as well, but for some reason, continue to give them money. at this point, it seems like we will never be free. one night i was coming home from a party with connor sewlyn, a buddy of mine who i knew was in the mafia, when he attacked. it wasn’t just him, because between you and me, i could take him. no, some of his buddies attacked me and beat me up pretty badly. i have a scar by my right eye from a kick to the head they brought to me. the only thing i heard uttered out of connor’s mouth besides ‘stop’ was that if i tried running away, they would kill me and my family. i don't know how he learned of my ideas to leave the mafia, to leave him, but i knew he wasn't lying. connor doesn't lie about silly things like that. sure, about destroying a shop, but not about killing people. those are promises. my heart won’t allow that. not only would that cause a problem for me, annie, patrick, but also my little sister, lily. she’s nineteen years old and is currently living with me. connor is my enemy. i can’t even become a double agent in fear that he has someone on the police department watching out for people like me. what they have me do, besides giving them money, is stealing. i know the difference between real paintings and the fake ones and will often create the plans to steal them and go along with the plan. patrick and annie know what i am doing, but don’t know the reason. they think i’ve gone down the wrong path, but lily is the only one that understands me. she knows that i’m trying to get out, but can’t. |
