august m. glass
I know what you’re going to say, please don’t say it, Don’t know why, Don’t know why, I want to draw out each minute
full name august morgan glass
nickname No Information
age twenty-five
pronouns he/him
occupation stripper
face claim simon nessman
power gyrokenisis (Elemental)
birthday No Information
romantic/ sexual orientation No Information
relationship status No Information
alignment No Information
zodiac No Information
mbti No Information
August Morgan Glass never knew his father. The man simply did not exist in his life, and honestly August was kind of okay with that. At first when he was a baby there were checks. Once a month, like clockwork, as long as August just laid there and did nothing but sleep and cry and eat and poop. Once he started walking and talking and being interesting in any way, the checks stopped. But August didn’t have any way to explain any of that. He could barely toddle about, money troubles were a long way off.

Teachers loved August. A little boy with unruly hair and chubby little cherub cheeks, he could get away with murder just by flashing some dimples. August always had a charm about him, that special talent called charisma only a few lucky people possess. He was always surrounded by a gaggle of friends, the first one picked for every team, the last person who could ever be called lonely. August was popular not because of money or snobbery, but because he was genuinely friendly and positive and people crave that kind of a presence in their lives. Yes, even in the third grade.

In the sixth grade, a boy came. He was new to the city, from some tiny New England state August would never remember, but he would remember everything else. He’d remember how they got into a fight on the boy’s first day and how August hated his guts for no reason at all except for his smile. His smile gave August this feeling, and it was intense and he only knew how to express it with anger. August was never a bully, the reaction was totally unlike him. It was uncalled for, out of character, surprising that he’d fight with someone over something so small. It surprised even him, though his young self was too stubborn to admit it.

The next day, the boy punched him back. This somehow made them even in only the way young boys can fathom. August was reluctant to leave his side ever since. The two became fast friends and were nearly inseparable for years. There was no one August would rather spend his time with, and while his friend group remained wide and varied, due to his natural personal charm, his preference for his best friend was very clear. The two were thick as thieves, they shared adventures and secrets and plans and dreams. High school came, and they took the same classes, played the same sports. Nothing changed between them, both valued their friendship highly.

But something changed with August. One day, his best friend got a girlfriend. She was pretty and she was kind and August hated her more than he’d ever hated that boy he punched in sixth grade. Now bro time involved a female more often than not, and August would smile and laugh and pretend she wasn’t really as pretty as he knew she was. They were a nice little trio, everyone thought so. His friends constantly tried to turn it into a quatro, regardless. They’d always ask August who he liked, or drop hints that someone liked him, or tease him about being a virgin forever. He’d shrug, say he wasn’t interested in dating, and change the subject. August had become quite the liar without even realizing it.

He knew that intense feeling he’d carried for years wasn’t anger or hatred, but August had no idea how to handle what it really was. It was foreign, scary. He focused on everything but the gnawing in his chest. August got a job as soon as he could. He loved his mother dearly, but college was coming up and he knew there was no way they could afford that. He’d never minded thrift store clothes shopping, but a real education was something his mother would not compromise on. No matter how massively in debt it would put her, or what she’d have to do to pay it off. His mother was his hero, and August never thought he deserved to be raised by a woman like her. A job was a distraction anyways, he could take himself away from being the eternal third wheel and save himself some pain.

Distance grew between he and his best friend, but apparently August was the only one who felt it keenly. His friend still smiled and slung his arm around August’s shoulders and laughed like he always did. And then he would look over to his pretty girlfriend who only kept getting prettier the more August saw her and August found it harder and harder to smile back. Especially when he had to stand there and watch them kiss and cuddle and be a couple. That’s when he would walk away, because as much as he wanted to punch something, he could never hurt either of them. For entirely different reasons.

It happened his senior year, when August was 18 and the future was more terrifying than ever and goodbyes were a heartbeat away. He’d been dreaming, for once a good dream. Where his life was perfect, he attended a good college, his mother won the lottery, and August could finally put arms around the person he most wanted, the way he wanted to. His heart felt lighter than air. His eyes opened and the fog of sleep cleared, only to discover how light he really was. August lay not on top of his mattress, but about four feet above it. Obviously, he panicked, and that panic caused him to crash back down to solid ground. August would write it off as a dream, but that was only the first time it happened. Again and again, he would wake up in the same or similar state, so much that it couldn’t be a dream. August was terrified.

Meanwhile, life got no better despite these abnormal occurrences. Prom happened and August insisted they were doing a “friend group” type of thing, just so he wouldn’t be written off as lonely or too cowardly to ask a girl out. August was miserable and he left halfway through, when his best friend and his girlfriend started making out and slow dancing and he could feel his stomach turning at the sight. He remembered thinking very clearly that the whole scene was just wrong. But he shut that voice up quickly. The next day his best friend called him up, just him and August, no girlfriend, hanging out like they used to. He told August he’d had sex with that girl, right after the prom. Told him how amazing it was, in detail, and how happy he was. Told August that he loved her. Somehow, he thought it would hurt less to hear that. It was after all, expected and natural and came as no surprise to anyone. August didn’t feel angry this time. He felt something that happy sixth grade boy would’ve never expected. He felt sad. Not just, oh that’s a shame sad, but like curl up in a ball and never leave your room not even for pizza sad. Cry for days and nights sad. It hurt, it hurt so badly. But August smiled. Said he was happy for them. He ficking wished them well. He could never hurt them, so it was better for him to hurt instead.

August didn’t float that night. They all graduated, and despite his troubling sleep and emotional rollercoasters, August graduated with honors. He wasn’t captain of the football team or student body president or valedictorian. But he would end up being the one guy everyone looked forward to seeing again at class reunions. He was the one people would keep as a Facebook friend years into the future. And he was the one whose name they would never forget. That summer, his best friend asked August to be his best man. He’d proposed and that pretty girlfriend said yes. So did August.

Somehow, August managed to make it through the ceremony. He’d remember every painful moment, every lying smile, every false hope of his best man’s speech. But what he would remember most would be standing next to his best friend at the alter, watching him hold the hands of his future wife and promise to love her with all his heart until they day he died, and thinking in that moment: “God. Why couldn’t he be saying that to me.”

August didn’t know if he was gay. He supposed he was, he’d always known, somewhere deep down, how he felt for his best friend. Even if he didn’t let it show, he knew. He’d admitted it to himself a long time ago. But did that make him gay? Maybe. He never felt that way for other guys. But he’d never felt that way for a girl either. Not that he’d even been looking in all this time. Ever since day one, August only had eyes for him. He’d become too good at lying.

They went back to the east coast together, and August stayed in Chicago. They were going to some fancy school, and August was proud but it also hurt to think about them. He was supposed to start college in the fall, but that never happened. His mom was pissed and she yelled a fair bit. August promised to start in the spring. Then the following fall. Soon, he’d taken two years off and he was 20. He had been working nonstop, and while the extra money was nice it didn’t make up for how much he knew college would cost. His mother still wouldn’t let it go, but August didn’t feel motivated enough to really take that leap and make a life for himself. His life had moved to the east coast with a brand new pretty wife and hadn’t bothered to call nearly as much as was promised.

August had stopped floating the day they got married. He was pretty sure it was a dream at this point, that his heart could’ve ever felt so light. He’d never told his mother about it, she didn’t need to know. She was distracted anyways. In all August’s growing up, he’d never seen his mother date before. But now she’d met some guy, some guy with a dog and a daughter August refused to meet stubbornly for absolutely no reason. She looked happy, his mom did. She looked younger, and she smiled more. This guy was good for her, but it was hard now for August to be too trusting, too open. He knew how badly heartbreak hurt, and he’d never let anyone hurt his mom like that. She didn’t deserve the heaviness he carried, she didn’t deserve to get out of bed most mornings like her whole body was made of lead. Not like August did.

It was three years now, and August still hadn’t started college, but he was starting to piece his life together again. He couldn’t dwell over one guy forever, right? There was someone else now, and he was cute and he’d asked August out. Why not. Why the hell not. August could do something for himself, he was allowed. He was allowed to text someone cute and smile over the reply. He was allowed to hold someone’s hand and whisper in their ear during a movie. It was a slight shift, but his heart didn’t feel as heavy as it did before.

Of course, the relationship didn’t last. But it didn’t end badly either. They went the way of friendship and maybe it wasn’t a happily ever after, but it was exactly what August needed. He started college finally, fall semester, when he was 21. He was older than the other freshman, but this was college and people cared less. Actually, a lot less. It was strangely freeing. He’d missed being surrounded by people who knew and liked him and wanted to be close to him. He’d missed feeling like he was moving forward, like he was going somewhere in his life.

He couldn’t keep his old job, the hours didn’t balance with his new school schedule. August didn’t have many other options, but he did remember one option. It was a place his previous very brief boyfriend had taken him to, just a fun night, a place to let loose. August never would’ve considered it otherwise, but the idea nagged at him. The hours fit. The pay was good, and the tips were better. And the owners liked him. He was confident and young and good looking and the word “talented” had been tossed around, causing August to blush. His mother didn’t take too kindly to the news. She was fine when August had told her he definitely was gay, a few months back when he dated that boy who picked him up where his best friend had dumped him. But she wasn’t too happy her son had chosen to be a stripper.

It was just a job, just a way to make ends meet and not sink into the endless depths of student loans. August liked it, in a strange way. Sometimes it was unpleasant, and sometimes the people were too grabby or too rude or too cheap. But there was a kind of camaraderie in the club he hadn’t felt since high school sports. The other guys were like brothers to him soon enough. August didn’t date any of them or any of the patrons, not even if they offered him money. But money wasn’t why he was there, not after that tuition check was cashed the first time. He was there because the people and the atmosphere made his heart feel light in a way it hadn’t for years.

August began to float again. It came as a surprise to him, after so many years of waking up in a normal bed position. Strangely, he had missed it. And with his feet finally back under him, August could finally wonder about it properly. He tested himself, he took notes on every time it happened, how it felt, what he thought, how he managed to get down again. Eventually, with practice, August could control it. Not just himself, but other objects too. It was all small, light things at first. Pebbles and spoons. The more he tried, the easier it came, and the more he could control. Objects got heavier, he could lift more for higher for longer. This was something real. He had real power here. August delighted in it, his own special secret. He didn’t really understand what he was doing until he started practicing more with lifting himself. He nearly broke his arm, but eventually something clicked. He wasn’t moving the objects with his mind. He was adjusting the way gravity affected them. He was making the force lesser, pulling on them unevenly to change direction. He was controlling gravity.

It was more difficult to accomplish on himself, it took a lot more focus and he got monster headaches for a while. But eventually, he could fly, in a floating kind of way, like astronauts do. Not for very long or very high, but he could. He’d discovered a flip side to the power in all his testing too. He could make things stay put. The force of gravity would pull on them strongly, so they could not be moved. Using the power in this way was more exhausting for him, and he quickly realized he needed to be careful. Enough force could crush a person. And August was never the type to hurt others.

It was wonderful having a secret power. Of course August used it to mess around sometimes and entertain himself, who wouldn’t? It helped him with the stripping job too, talent turned into skill over his college years, and August was often described as being “light on his feet”. With learning more about this power came greater control, and he didn’t float so much at night anymore. But sometimes he did, and August was pleased when it snuck up on him. Because he knew now it meant he was happy and hopeful. He was back to the way he was always meant to be, who that bright eyed cheeky child was supposed to become. August was 25 now, looking forward to medical school. Things were looking up, and his heart felt lighter every day.
joined wats on 4-April 17 total posts 46 posts last post made Nov 18 2017, 12:34 AM last active Yesterday at 01:38 pm

played by apple

she/her 21 central

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