Tory Fraser doesn't have a custom title currently.
Location: No Information
Born: No Information
Website: No Information
Character Age: 23 (52)
Character Act/Position: Cyr Wheel
Application: No Information
Plot Page: No Information
gif link: http://i57.tinypic.com/2e64enb.jpg
lyrics: No Information
Joined: 13-June 15
Last Seen: Jul 12 2015, 11:35 PM
Local Time: Jul 1 2016, 03:42 AM
5 posts (0 per day)
( 0.03% of total forum posts )
Jun 13 2015, 05:55 PM
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As the music finally slows down I bring the Cyr Wheel to a slow stop and take my bow amongst a spattering of applause. I have to wonder if my friend was out in the crowd tonight or working behind the scenes in this crazy jumble that I call a family. If he was out there, I wonder if he realized this performance was for him, that the song meant something, but I highly doubt it. Sweat is dripping from my forehead, I can feel my silly hair extensions sticking to my bare shoulders and my muscles slowly start to throb. My eyes scan the crown once more for the face I long to see, but he isn't there so I turn and take my exit. Exhausted, I head back to my car on the train and collapse into the nearest chair. I love what I do, but it sure takes a lot out of you.
Glancing over I catch a glimpse of myself in a small mirror and sigh just a little. It's only a few weeks before I turn 52 birthday and yet I still have the body of a 23 year old. It is nice really, the whole not aging thing, though sometimes I really feel like I'm really as old as I should be. Thinking of my upcoming birthday brings back memories of New Zealand, family, my life before the circus and I close my eyes. My mind wanders back to those warm nights as a child and listening to my mother and father talking in the living room. My older sister listening to her latest record in the next room became almost like a lullaby to me and my memories start to melt with my present as I slowly drift off to sleep.
I grew up in a relatively small town on the West Coast of New Zealand. Reefton did not have many people in it, but it was beautiful place and not far from the ocean. Which, in my opinion made it that much better. My childhood was not much different from any other child that was born in the early 60's. My mother was a native, but my father is someone I never knew. He had been a sailor that was stationed near my mother's home and I was the result of a drunken night. I never once held it against them, neither did my sister who was conceived the same way, but nearly five years earlier. Even though she was a very young woman, my mother did the best she could raising us and eventually married a good man and we were a family. <p>
Being the son of a hippie had it's perks for sure. I rarely ever got in trouble and I barely had any chores, even after mom got married. Dad was a good man with a steady job, but he never tried to change her or us and I loved and respected him even more for that. He was always so willing to take a part in our lives, he even taught me how to surf along with many other things. In fact, I came out to my family when I was 16 years old and I was terrified, but Dad took me to the side and told me that if any man ever hurt me that they would have to deal with him. I've never felt more loved in my life then when I was at home, but time changes and people need to move on. So, when I was 20 I decided I wanted to go to America to try to make it in the surfing scene.<p>
My parents didn't bat an eyelash and wished me good luck as they handed me the money for a plane ticket and to have a little when I got to California. Mom also told me to call or write as often as I could and that if I ever needed to come home to just let them know. I made my promises and goodbye's and I was off. It was a bit of a culture shock to be honest. The coastal towns of California were so big and full of people all the time, it made me feel a little claustrophobic at first, but I eventually got over it. I quickly made friends with several local surfers and we would go out and just ride the waves for hours on end, those were good times. However, I knew there was a reality to things and I was seeing to many of my friends living on the streets. I didn't want to end up like that, so I looked for a job and took the first one I could find.<p>
Okay, so it took me awhile to find a job, but even when I did get a job slinging burgers at a beach side stand I knew it wasn't enough. Street performing is not as easy as you think it would be. I would dance and do tricks, sometimes I'd even ride a skateboard while doing tricks and no one would give me any money. One day I suddenly heard a little thud in my hat and noticed a rolled up ball of cash wrapped in a piece of paper. Honestly, it wasn't much money, but the plus side was that a phone number was attached to it. I know what you're thinking, calling someone you don't know is super dangerous. Back then, I didn't think so and besides I was lonely and if nothing else I could possibly make a friend or maybe something more., so I called. <p>
His name was Tony and he was charming, smart, and absolutely handsome. I didn't know I could fall for someone as hard and fast as I did for him and it seemed like he felt the same way about me. As things progressed, we decided to not only live with each other, but to hop in his rusted out van and travel the country with Tony saying he wanted to show me everything there was. It was the middle of the 80's and things had changed so much, but I really enjoyed them. Well, some of the things anyway. The pop culture and such were not really that bad, but the "age of excess" did have it's dark sides and little did I know I was going to be witness to one of it's more harsher realities.<p>
Somewhere near the Texas and Louisiana border Tony's van finally decided it was time to head to the big parking lot in the sky and that meant we were hitch hiking from here on out. It was fun for a little bit until a group of guys picked us up, I didn't really like the look of them or their obvious drug habits, but Tony was fine with it and promised me we'd be safe. Oddly enough we were, well I was at least. The guys actually took us into their home and gave us a place to stay, even told us we were welcome to stay until we saved up the money to head back to Cali. I still had my reservations, but again Tony seemed to be okay with all of it so I just smiled and went along.<p>
I had no way of knowing what Tony was getting up to when I went to work, at least until I noticed larger bills disappearing from my stash of money. At first I confronted the other guys in the house and almost got into a fight with them until Tony admitted he took it. I was confused and then hurt by his reasoning for it. He needed it for drugs. My boyfriend was a junkie and things were getting worse. How in the world had I missed this? I guess it was easy to miss at first because he had a steady supply and rarely seemed to be in any kind of odd state when I was around. Still, I didn't understand it and it scared me. <p>
Tony assured me so many times that things would be fine, that I had nothing to fear and I believed him. I believed him even as I watched him gradually get worse. He even attacked me a few times, but I never left him. I couldn't, not with him in that state. So, I stood by his side and set aside a little money from each paycheck. I know now that it was the worst thing I could do, but I did love him and I was young and foolish. A few days before I turned 23, Tony went out for a bit and never came home. Worried sick I called the cops and started looking for him myself. Asking around, I discovered that he liked to hang out in this old abandoned barn near the house we shared with the others.<p>
Somehow I knew what I was going to find when I got there, or at least I thought I did. Sure enough I found Tony, but was far too late. The coroner said that it was an overdose without a doubt and my heart just felt like it shattered into a million pieces. How could I go on without the man I loved with all my heart? I couldn't stay in that house anymore and I needed to get away from that town, so the night of my actual birthday I hoped a bus and head to New Orleans. I wanted to find a nice shady bar and drink myself into oblivion. Instead I found a circus, and an odd one to say the least. <p>
The people seemed so close, much like the family I left back in New Zealand. Maybe it was just my brain doing some wishful thinking, but I knew I had to be apart of this. With very little hesitation I offered myself to any position they had to offer. At first I started out just cleaning up after the shows, but once I decided to show of a little on the German Wheel for some of the others one night and the next thing I knew I was contracted and a legit performer. I didn't realize what I had just signed up for when I did, but it didn't take that long to figure out. Besides pretty much everyone tell me of course.<p>
A few years later I switched from the German to the Cyr wheel. It's a bit more physical than the German and a bit more fun. It was 2003 now and the wold had changed so much, but I felt like things still stayed the same for me. I made friends at the circus over the years, but rarely do I get to close to anyone. I know it's just because I'm afraid of losing someone I care about again, but I don't think anyone could really blame me.<p>
A gentle knocking wakes me from my slumped position in the chair I collapsed in hours earlier. Someone obviously wanted my attention, but didn't want to wake me up to harshly, then a familiar voice called from my car door. My friend was outside and I felt my heart skip a beat. He has no idea how I feel about and honestly, I may keep it that way. I do care about him, but I know where it leads and I don't ever plan on him finding out. <p>
Now his voice is telling me to wake up and get ready, he wants to buy me something to eat since it's breakfast time now. How in the world did I sleep that long and why did no one else wake me up? It's Sunday already I guess by his offer and decide it may be worth it. Besides, I'm pretty hungry. I clean myself up and get ready just in time to hear him come in. Looking up I'm momentarily lost in his smile and forget about not wanting to tell him my feelings, yet I know I'll not say anything. Even as he moves up to me, my heart races as he reaches his hand out and pulls a remaining piece of fake hair away from my own. With a chuckle he rolls his eyes and I laugh.
</div></div></td><td><div class="appPIC" style="background-image:url(http://i58.tinypic.com/k51r39.jpg)"><div class="appNAME">Tory Fraser</div><div class="appINFO"><div style="height: 100px">23/52<BR>Pana Hema Taylor<BR>Cyr Wheel<br>Performers</div><HR><b>ooc</b><BR>Jonnay<BR>31/CST/Agender</div></div>