Jasper Krane was born into a world of chaos, a child of two parents whose lives were controlled by addiction. His mother, Olivia, was a former artist, once celebrated for her intricate charcoal drawings of the urban landscape, but drugs had dulled her creativity and destroyed her will. His father, Henry, was a mechanic who spent most of his days chasing high after high, leaving the house in a constant state of neglect.

From the moment Jasper could remember, the house was never quiet. The faint smell of cigarettes and stale beer mixed with the ever-present scent of something rotting—whether it was food left too long on the counter, or something more metaphorical, like the fading hope his parents had for themselves. When he was a toddler, he learned quickly that the silence after an argument was his cue to hide under the kitchen table, wrapping his tiny arms around his knees as the shouting grew louder.

His early years were marked by a deep loneliness. His parents barely noticed his presence, too absorbed in their own battles. He grew accustomed to hunger pangs, to going without clean clothes, and to the eerie quiet of a home where laughter was scarce. Jaspers days were spent observing, quietly watching the world around him as it slowly dissolved into a pattern of neglect and abandonment.

Despite the brokenness around him, Jasper found solace in his imagination. At a young age, he was drawn to art—sketching pictures in the margins of old newspapers and on the backs of receipts, filling the dull spaces of his world with his own. His parents rarely noticed, and even when they did, they dismissed his creations as "a waste of time." But for Jasper, drawing became an escape—a way to breathe in a world where no one seemed to care if he existed.

By the time Jasper was 10, he could often be found on the floor of their dingy living room, a piece of chalk or a broken pencil in hand, sketching the neighborhood from the window. He drew faces—faces he imagined for people who never came by, faces that spoke of love, compassion, and understanding, things that were alien to him. But these sketches were his secret, his moment of rebellion against the dark and broken home his parents had given him.

At 12, after years of a life that had worn him thin, everything changed. One night, the neighbors called the authorities after hearing another loud argument. Jasper had never seen his parents in such a state—his mother was lying on the couch, barely conscious, and his father was nowhere to be found. The police arrived, and for the first time, someone noticed Jasper. His thin frame, the hollow look in his eyes, and the expression of a boy who had long since stopped hoping—they saw him.

The foster care system swooped in, and suddenly, Jasper’s world was no longer one of neglect and chaos. He was first placed with a foster family in a quiet suburban town, a stark contrast to everything he had known. They were kind, but there was no escaping the deep scars his early years had left. Jasper was now surrounded by people who cared, yet trust didn’t come easily to him. His heart remained guarded, wary of the kindness that seemed too good to be true. It was, indeed, too good to be true. Jasper went through 15 or 20 foster homes through his teen years, and despite being quiet, and trying to be liked by the parents that came to see him, none ever chose him.

As Jasper grew up, people would ask him about his life. So he’d lie. He’d paint this elaborate story of how he used to live in a nice apartment complex, how his mom and dad were always laughing and joking, and how they took a lot of trips to go camping, or seeing new states, or even going to Disney World. He’d done it so long that fabricating this tale became second nature, and he’d start to believe some of the tales he told. Happy Christmases spent around a tree so gaudily decorated you would think Christmas threw up on it and large birthday parties where he ate himself sick on cakes and candy. All lies though, every single one.

Then, at 17 years old, everything changed. He met Sebastion. A 24 year old mechanic. He was handsome, strong, charismatic. He basically swept the poor, guarded, apprehensive Jasper off his feet. They spent every day together, some would joke that they were attached at the hip. Jasper followed the man around like a love struck puppy.

Shortly before meeting Sebastion, Jasper had been painting large and intricate canvases. Of picturesque landscapes and couples in love. Bright and cheerful, the complete opposite of the dark thoughts that clouded his mind. 

He sold those paintings, scraping together enough funds to buy himself a motorhome. He was desperate to get out of his foster home, which had become a place that filled him with fear and anxiety, and he finally felt like he was making progress.

The motorhome was dated somewhere in the 1970’s and vintage. It was the ugliest thing the boy had seen, but it was his, and he was ever closer to his escape. It was cheap, and the owner just wanted it gone. The motorhome needed a whole new engine, new brakes, and new wiring on the inside. Sebastion had yelled at him for it, scolded him for wasting money on something so ugly and stupid as he hauled the motorhome to his house.

Not long after buying the motorhome, two months from his 18th birthday, Jasper would move in with Sebastion. Sebastion had planned to help Jasper restore the camper. Jasper knew nothing about cars, and Sebastion was supposed to teach him. But, things don’t go to plan when Jasper is part of them.

On the surface, the two seem like any other couple, with moments of shared laughter and joy. But beneath that surface, the reality is far darker, with Jasper enduring emotional, mental, physical, and mild sexual abuse at the hands of someone he loves.

Emotionally, Jasper feels constantly drained, as Sebastian is quick to criticize him, belittle his feelings, and dismiss his needs. His once vibrant personality is slowly fading, overshadowed by doubt and insecurity. Whenever Jasper expresses discomfort or tries to communicate his feelings, Sebastian twists his words or accuses him of being too sensitive. The constant emotional manipulation makes Jasper feel isolated, like he’s walking on eggshells, never knowing what might set off Sebastian’s anger or disappointment.

Mentally, Jasper is struggling with the constant gaslighting. Sebastian has a way of making him doubt his own perception of reality. He’ll say things that make Jasper question whether something that hurt him actually happened or if he’s just imagining it. This mind game leaves Jasper feeling confused and unsure of who he is outside of the relationship. He’s lost confidence in himself and his ability to make decisions, as Sebastian is quick to undermine his judgment.

Physically, the abuse is more subtle but still terrifying. The bruises are hidden under the sleeves of Jasper's shirts and the long pants he wears, but they are there. Sebastian’s angry outbursts, whether from jealousy or frustration, sometimes result in pushing, shoving, or grabbing. Though Sebastian tries to pass it off as a “mistake” or something that “just happened,” Jasper can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong, that this behavior is far from normal. The physical abuse leaves him feeling weak and trapped, unable to break free from the toxic cycle.

Mild sexual abuse is another layer to the turmoil Jasper faces. At first, it seemed like a natural progression in their relationship, but soon it became clear that Sebastian was crossing boundaries. He would pressure Jasper into intimacy even when he wasn’t comfortable, using manipulation to convince him that it was his responsibility as his boyfriend to please Sebastian. Sometimes, it felt like an obligation more than an act of love. Sebastian’s disregard for Jasper’s comfort and consent left him feeling powerless.

Near the end of their relationship, Jasper wasn’t even allowed to leave the house. The once creative and artistic boy had been diminished to a shell of a person in some twisted trapped princess tale. Jasper had turned into a homemaker of sorts. He cooked, cleaned, did laundry, and satisfied the abusive tendencies of Sebastion. Sebastion had fixed Jasper's motorhome. Rebuilt the engine and fixed the brakes and wiring, but Jasper didn’t know how. The man kept him in the dark about everything. Soon, Jasper lost all his will power to beg, plead, cry, and fight back against Sebastions cruel and sadistic tendencies, and so, like a child who got bored of a toy he’d gotten for Christmas, Sebastion threw Jasper out of his home, with just the clothes on his back, stained with the nights dinner, and the keys to the camper.

Lost in a pit of his own despair, the now 22 year old man drove around the country in that camper. He couldn’t hold down a real job, too scared and panic stricken to interact with most people, specifically men, and so he’d do whatever odd things he could to make money. He just needed enough for simple paints, brushes, and canvases. Jasper wasn’t talented in anything else other than art, but he didn’t have any art supplies, not since his ex had deemed them worthless and threw them out. Jasper ended up selling his body for money for a short while, and he hated it. The experience left him feeling disgusted with himself and only dug him deeper into his pit of despair.

Once he’d gathered the money, and bought the art supplies he needed, he would continue traveling. Just a sad boy, selling vibrant paintings along roadsides and in parking lots, living out of a rickety camper. He’d heal over time, maybe.

Appearance -

5'7 and underweight ( 117 pounds )

dirty brownish blond hair that is usually a mess of curls pulled into a bun at the back of his head

Soft, stormy green eyes and a skinny body

Soft angular facial features with dark freckles dusting over his cheekbones and nose

A silver ring in his left nostril and silver earrings cresting up the outter shell of his right ear