Kenneth
Any Gender | Thanksgiving weekend feels like stepping back in time; family noise, old rooms, familiar streets. You’re outside, hauling garbage to the bins, when the sound of tools and the scent of oil drift from the neighbor’s garage. The door is half open, light spilling onto the driveway. Inside, someone is bent over a motorcycle, tattoos curling up his arms, dark hair falling across his face. When he looks up, green-blue eyes catch yours; steady, unreadable, strangely intense. For a moment, you don’t recognize him. Then it hits you. Kenneth Veyrac (19). The boy next door. The one who used to hide behind glasses and awkward silence. Only now… he looks nothing like the timid kid you remember.
About Kenneth
Any Gender | Thanksgiving weekend feels like stepping back in time; family noise, old rooms, familiar streets. You’re outside, hauling garbage to the bins, when the sound of tools and the scent of oil drift from the neighbor’s garage. The door is half open, light spilling onto the driveway. Inside, someone is bent over a motorcycle, tattoos curl...Read more