Uncle Mike

James and I were close enough in age that we ended up growing up together. We were the blacksheep from the beginning, which reminds me of a lot of funny stories. James gave me my first tattoo by stabbing me with an old ink pen when I took one of his toys away from him, its stories along that kinda line that made us such great friends. When I graduated from school he hooked me up with an apprenticeship at a tattoo shop that his buddy ran, in turn I did all of his work for him. His mom still holds that against me to this day, but James didn't care, when he heard that I had gotten my first appointment he came down and watched me do it. He took a polaroid of it and snuck it into my portfolio one day. It was the ugliest tattoo that ever was done in that shop, but James insisted that I keep it in there. He said that it was a piece of history that needed to be preserved, but I think that it was cause James wanted to remind me to find the beauty in everything that I did.

Ryan

James and I worked together at Lazy Dog. He made that place what it is today. The difference from before James and today is astronomical. When he became the manager of the place he decided to change up the look of the outside porch by getting rid of all the tables and chairs that were out there originally and putting two, ten seat tables out there instead. He wanted to force people to step out of their comfort zones and talk to each other. It was amazing what happened, people from all over town were coming to hang out and talk. It formed a group of friends that grew closer than family. At first everybody started out as strangers who probably would have been to shy or afraid to ask each other for a smoke, but from that sprouted a community that was bound by one thing. James. It was amazing to work there; I wish that I never would have left.

Arthur

In my life, I have had many regrets, but the greatest above all else is how I treated my boy. I have lost count of how any years it has been since I have spoken to him, since I heard his voice. I've tried to tell him that I am doing better, tried to show him that I have turned my life around, yet every time I se a cold, wall of stone. Honestly I cannot blame him though, with all that I did to him he never said a word. All he did was remain stone silent. I forced my son to become that, A man who does not know how to show any negative emotion. A man who des not tell anyone about his struggles in his life and refuses help from anyone. I turned him into my greatest fears. My brother tells me that that he is doing well though. His friends look to him when they are in need, they are his family, and he is their triumphant protector. I wish I could have been his. I can't quite remember where I heard this but I was once told that every saint has its demon to fight against. I guess that is what I am for my son.

Riley

I don't think that I was ever sad around James. No matter how shitty my day had been he could always pull me out of it. He and I dated for two years and it was the best relationship that I have ever had. We met when he transferred schools, he walked in to my French class with his charming grin and I fell for him then and there. Tall, his black hair was close cropped and a disarming smile. His personality was perfect, he could diffuse anyone with a slightly off hand joke and a quick smile. I guess that what I'm trying to say is that it was hard not to fall in love with James. We started dating our senior year and for the next two years it was pure bliss. I never stopped being amazed at how generous he was with what little he had, all anyone had to do was ask and it would be theirs. I still find myself imagining what life would be like had we gotten married, its silly to talk like that now though

Marie

My son went to great lengths to refuse anything that was given to him due to our wealth. He said that since he had done nothing to earn it he couldn't accept it. He didn't even accept my help when he moved out, the only furniture that he took was a dresser that he had bought the money he had saved from working at a coffee shop and a bed that was an heirloom from my father. He cut himself off then. He kept in touch with his sister and an uncle on his father’s side but that was it. He would come over on birthdays and holidays but only for dinner, then he would be gone. In and out of my life like a ghost, an ethereal being who would haunt my dreams for weeks at a time. His appearance changing slightly each time he came around; gauged ears or a new tattoo, long hair or a buzz cut, it seemed as if his skin was the only thing in his life that he wasn't content with. He called after each time that he would get another piercing or tattoo, But no matter how much I hated it; the fact that my gorgeous son, my one and only little boy was making himself out to be one of the dregs society; I loved to hear from him. Whether it was him calling to tell me that he went up a size in his ears, or to tell me that he was getting a tattoo of a diamond ring with the word mother engraved into it. It meant that my son was choosing to involve me in his life.

Thomas

Brian killed himself. No matter what anyone says that’s what happened. I wish that we could have convinced James of that though. He was the one that found him; he came home one day and found his car, running in the garage. James blamed himself for it happening. I don't know why he shouldered it all, five of us were living in that house, and none of us had a clue as to just how depressed Brian was. He kept it all inside, Brian was hard to read to begin with but he was always around laughing and smiling with the rest of us, never letting on. Maybe that’s why James took it so hard; he could always relate to everyone, he made it a goal in life to be the guy who everyone could rely on, the guy to whom they could go to any day of the week and just unload. But not Brian, James tried but Brian just kept on shirking it, he kept on avoiding him till James just gave up. It changed him, from then on James was a little different when Brian came around. It was almost as if he knew what Brian was planning and there was nothing that anyone could do to stop it; it just didn't hit James till he came home that day. He spoke at Brian’s wake, it was beautiful and from the heart, just like James.

Eric

I loved living with James. We started sharing an apartment the summer after our senior year. I was getting the boot and James wanted to get as far away from his family as possible. In all the years we lived together he never explained why that was. I knew that his family had money but James never really took advantage of it. Our place was a hole in the wall on the wrong side of town but James loved it. I don't think he left the house for anything but work for the first couple weeks we were in there. I don't know how he did it. We had nicknamed it the cave, it had these ugly brownish green walls and no matter how many lamps we had going, it always seemed like we were in candle light. It was barely big enough to bring more that one or two people over at a time. But it seemed like every night James was inviting a different person over to give them the tour, which pretty much could be done by standing in the middle of the living room/kitchen and turning around in a circle. James loved doing it though; I think that its cause that apartment was the first thing that he had ever got on his own. Everything his entire life had been given to him, but that apartment, that was his freedom. He no longer had to deal with a family that was pushing him to be something he wasn't. He could just sit on the couch and stare at the hole in the entertainment center that should have been filled with a TV and smile to himself. I don't think I've ever enjoyed living with anyone more than I did with James, even though it was only for a few short months before I went to college. James taught me more about being content with what life gives you than I ever thought possible.