#I’ve always imagined his store as like… an abandoned 90’s car lot

[bluetea-00]

Hello Spamton nation

[kpopchangedme]

Sun-drenched [M] - Youngjae

Every time you opened your mouth something outrageous came out but unfortunately, your new dorky step-brother seemed to be immune. You couldn’t tell if Youngjae was actually that clueless or if your reputation preceded you. 

Protagonists: Choi Youngjae & You

Word Count: 4.6k

Genre: NSFW - Cringe Fest - Smut - slight exhibitionism - f*ckgirl - Stepbrother!au || [One Shot]

[The Pleasure Chest: A Cringe Fest]

GOT7 | M.list

Your mother was doing that thing with her hair again, slightly shaking her head every time her new beau spoke. Every single bob invariably made her blonde curls spring. How disgusting. You had asked to be bleached once, a few years ago, and she had the audacity to claim it would look cheap on you. So unfair. 

She hadn't met her fourth husband for more than 6 months before she did just that. She thought it made her look younger, but Miami-midlife-crisis was more like it. It wasn't pretty wheat blonde, it was white yellow-ish banana buttercream. On-sale daffodil... Much like the sad ones Youngnam had gotten her from the convenience store yesterday.  They were now awaiting certain death in a crystal vase husband-number-two had gotten her for God knows what occasion.

You rolled your eyes when your latest stepfather started going over safety rules again. At your dad's there was never a need for them and if you correctly remembered the last time you had lived with your mom... You smiled, imagining how Dr. Top Surgeon would react if he found out his perfect church-going wife used to pop pills like candy and store a very impressive bong in the third drawer of her kitchen.

That would make for a fun scene. 

The goodbyes seemed to stretch half an eternity in the living room, after which you got dragged to the hall where the speech began all over again. Your mom gave you a short hug, more of a shoulder squeeze, then she pulled back and frowned with intent as much as her botox allowed. You shrugged off her silent don't-screw-this-up warning, already waving goodbye to her husband. Shoo shoo, you thought, sending the adults off to a far far away location. 

As soon as the door shut behind, you squealed in excitement. 

Summer had officially begun! 

Moving half across the country to fake “house sit” their new place while they honeymooned in Boca wasn't exactly what you had scheduled for your vacations. But when Youngnam accidentally let the words infinity pool and cars – as in with an S – slip out during the weekly video call, not even the dread on your mother’s face could’ve deterred you from flying over. 

As it turns out, Dr. Choi was loaded. 

Something you probably would’ve figured out earlier if you’d bothered showing up for the ceremony at all. Unfortunately, the wedding hadn't matched your Spring Break’ schedule and you decided having been present to the many previous ceremonies should be considered enough daughterly care for a lifetime. 

As you bent to the freezer for a celebratory parent-free popsicle, you felt the eyes of that gift-that-came-with-the-house glued to your ass. He briefly glanced down at the flash of your stomach’s skin when you jumped to sit on the counter. 

Surprisingly enough, your mother’s many rings had never once come with a step-brother before...

Usually, she went for the bachelor or womanizer types and those had the decency to never have baggage. Dr. Choi was a break of pattern and the news came with complete horror on your part.

For as long as you could, you had made a duty of never meeting his son, pretended he didn't even exist. So when the bubbly blended trio came to pick you up at the airport yesterday, you had been shocked.

They had said soloist of the local Choir and you’d heard; loser. Piano lessons? Dork. All-boys school graduate? Stuck-up. Computer Science Major? Nerd alert.

No one had talked about… That.

As a matter of fact, Choi Youngjae himself had not spoken much either, but he was certainly looking... 

And there were few things you enjoyed more than having a man's undivided attention.

Standing in the middle of the kitchen in all his glory, your new step-brother was staring, as usual, watching intently as you sucked your popsicle. You made sure to make a show of it.

“So… What about lunch?” He finally asked even though it was barely 9. Just to rattle him you hummed on the sugary treat as a reply. Mission accomplished. “S-Should I order pizza?”

“Don't worry, I’m easy...” Youngjae’s gaze fluttered down to your belly ring again. Boy, if he liked that one he had a few things coming. “I’ll eat anything if it's on you.”

Gaze widening, he pretended to look at something over in the living room and walked away.

Wait no, the poor guy literally bolted out of the kitchen to escape to safety. So fast one could wonder if this whole first exchange was the fruit of your devious imagination.

Oh no, you had just traumatized your babyish step-bro.

It made sense, you were one scary bitch.

All-boys school graduate? Virgin, you mentally took note. 

Or perhaps your mom had said something about you devouring the souls of poor innocent men. They said the apple never fell far from the tree. Grinning like a shark, you discarded the melting popsicle in the trash.

This promised to be one Hell of a summer break. 

______________________

“It’s been more than 10 minutes...” Chimlin flipped the phone over to yell unintelligibly at her demonic baby twin sisters. Despite the protection, you winced. “No DMs.”

“Then he hasn’t seen it yet.” Artlessly reporting for BFF’ duty was a lot more fun face to face, but for a few months, video calls would have to do. “Trust me.”

“I don't know,” she whined, going on all over again about how her boyfriend hadn’t picked up the phone since their nightly routine fight of yesterday. 

Sometimes you wondered if you’d even follow her back on Insta if you met this current sad version of herself. Kinda hard to tell, but she used to be the coolest baddest chick on campus. Then she was partnered with that Italian exchange student for a Statistic class, disgustingly dripping pheromones, cash and European pizzazz. Yes, Statistics. The most boring course ever, let's be real. But Chimlin was a genius, the deadly hot kind. No matter how shit-faced she was, that girl could track the B-52s and Gin Tonics’ calorie count of each respective member of your girl squad, not that she'd ever had to care herself.

Then Massimo came. At first, he was just a casual hook-up, but he managed to worm his way into her brain and grew there like a tumour. By the end of last semester, they were full-on steady-going together like in cringy 90s rom-coms. He was always stuck to her like a parasite.

Gone was your favourite 4 feet 11 party animal.

“Do you have any idea how many bitches Mas could meet this summer?”

You snorted, “Not even close to the number of dicks you could have in Pattaya if you wanted to.”

“Phatthaya,” she corrected automatically with a dramatic eye-roll. “That’s the thing, I don't want to. I only want one dick and he's miles away.” She waved her hand to brush it off right as your mouth opened in protest.

Her Italian barnacle did want to remain with her on campus for summer, but Chimlin thought she had better plans that involved a lot more beaches and fruity drinks. She simply couldn't live with her own poor life choices now and you were just about to tell her so when a flash of skin on the screen distracted you.  

“What else have you been hiding?” You sing-sang, impressed by the view. 

She glanced over her shoulder, “That's my uncle. Like... He’s literally my mom’s lil’ brother. Gross.”

“I know what an uncle is and that's a very hot one if I’ve ever seen one. You can look.”

“We’re not all depraved sluts like you.” She only half-teased with a sharp laugh. “How's the cute new brother doing, by the way?”

“No idea.” You flipped the camera and zoomed on Youngjae's bedroom window like to prove a point. The curtains were drawn, concealing anything worth mentioning from view. You were lounging by the pool on one of those fancy long chairs, much as you had been for the past week. Margarita, sunscreen, repeat. If this boring routine went on, you’d be so tanned by the end of summer no one on campus would recognize you. Sometimes you did think Youngjae's curtains were wobbling, maybe he was spying on you but it could all be your imagination. “Typical. He's been in hiding from me since day one.”

“I don't blame him.”

“Don't blame me for wanting him either. He's a good boy in a bad boy’s body.”

“I don't even know what that means...”

“No one does. But he's not cute, he's hot. I need him all over me and I've been telling him so, but he's strangely elusive. I think he hits the gym above the grocery store on the corner, I should join.”

“Stalker.”

“I don’t stalk, I live in his house.”

“No wonder the poor guy doesn't go out of that room, I bet he picked up on all your slutty energy.” In the rectangle screen, Chimlin switched to tan the other side and you did the same, laying on your back.

“Ha ha. He'd have to be moronic not to,” you were holding the phone above, casting a partial shadow on your face.

“Your legend precedes you. He's scared you're gonna trap and fuck him.”

“What else am I supposed to do when you've abandoned me and flew to the other side of the world? You know I need a summer project.”

“And of course, it had to be a guy.”

You were so glad she stopped whining about Mas for a minute that you let that one slide. “Well, I am not a needlepoint kind-of-girl.”

“Right, hey maybe it isn’t the incest that’s creeping your brother out. Maybe he's gay.”

Someone snorted out loud at that – not you – and you sat up in alarm.

Two guys were standing by the edge of the pool.

“No, he's not,” said the one on the left, a smile in his voice. They were directly in your sun, so you had trouble making out their features. One silhouette was slightly slumped, the other tall and all limbs. You suddenly felt very exposed, dropping Chimlin to fasten your bikini top in a hurry. This show wasn't for strangers to enjoy.

“Who are you?” The second man asked, clearly lost.

“She's it,” the other echoed.

“Who are you? I live here.”

“We're your brother's social life,” the frisky one smiled largely, kind of in a dangerous way that you immediately recognized for your own. Friends, they were Youngjae's friends and they very clearly overheard your embarrassing banter with Chimlin.

Flushing – a rare occurrence – you brought a hand to shield your eyes from the sun while you corrected; “Step-br–”

A sharp voice cut in, “She's not my sister.”

Behind, Youngjae was standing awkwardly by the patio door, a stern look on his face. He didn't seem surprised his people were there. He didn't even glance in your direction before disappearing back as you blankly stared after him. 

“Well, thank fuck,” the you-guy turned to wink, following him inside. “Good luck with your summer project! I’ll root for you!”

In a daze, you picked your phone back up. Chimlin was still there, waiting dilligently to be briefed on what just transpired. You puffed your cheeks, mentally preparing for what was to come.

______________________

Swear to God, Youngjae had not come out of that room for two days.

Two.

Fricking.

Days.

Maybe he had a fridge in there.

Maybe he only came to life after midnight like a vampire to avoid the whore squatting his dad’s house. 

Whatever his annoying friends told him had certainly made a lasting impression. You just hoped he wasn't the type to go cry to parents whenever something happened. You had no intention of going back to your tiny dorm all alone and sad for the summer just because you hurt his feelings by finding him bangable. Or worse, at your father's.

What was he even thinking?

You had not done anything wrong. Pushed a bad joke a little bit too far perhaps, nothing to get all worked up about. No reason to get shunned out of your mother's life again. 

Youngjae's reaction, or lack thereof, was way out of line.

It's not like you had actually done anything to him. He was such a prude. A prude that eye-fucked you all the time!

Church baby boys were the worst.

What an ass.

.

.

.

Three days?!

Three days of an overly empty house. The atmosphere had gotten so heavy, the air so tense you couldn't even think about anything else. There was nothing left to do. Just sit on the couch inside or by that dumb infinity pool, starring at the drawn curtains of your step-brother's bedroom. They weren't wobbling anymore.

Which was what you were actively doing this afternoon, ruminating your dark thoughts for hours. You didn't even notice you were getting dangerously warmer. When your timer went off, announcing it was sunscreen time again you nearly fell from your chair. 

Doing the legs was the easiest part, your favourite to be honest. They were one hell of an asset of yours. You were massaging the thick lotion on your right calf when something at the corner of your eye caught your attention. 

For a heartbeat or two, you thought you were hallucinating. 

Youngjae had finally reappeared. 

He was standing at the end of the pool, a knapsack thrown over his shoulders. His thumbs were hooked in the straps, hands dangling to his sides like dead weights. If he looked like a young boy at first glance, the heated look on his face was one of a man.

Frozen still, you gulped. True to form, he kept staring for a long moment before turning to the house and you thought he was about to go into hiding again – but oh no, fuck – he was actually pacing towards you. 

“I’m back.” Youngjae blurted out awkwardly, mouth twisted. 

Yours was opened in a mix of disbelief and shock. He was actually addressing you. “Back?” From where the corner store?

“Yes,” his eyes ghosted over your poor excuse of a bikini before anchoring themself back to safety in yours. Again, horny eyes. If you were warm earlier, now you were burning up. “I thought it'd be better if I stayed away at Bam's for a few days…”

Right? No one could actually stay between four walls so dilligently. It made sense. You were so dumb.

Apparently, your confusion was evident. “Didn’t you notice I was gone?” No, you had not. So your step-brother was so freaked out being around you that he actually moved out for a few days. Had you gotten that bad? Jesus. “Anyway, I’m back home with you now.” 

Youngjae took a step closer, kindly getting in your light so you'd stop squinting at him. He looked even hotter in the bright light of day, sweat pearled between your breasts. He frowned and bit his lower lip waiting for a reaction. The things you'd do to that perfectly proper mouth. 

Of course, what came out of yours at the moment was less than appropriate. He was right to be scared, you weren't safe at all.

“Wanna do me?”

Yes, you were that bad. Terrible indeed.

“Do I-I,” he gasped for air – oops, “w-what?”

“My back,” you clarified smiling like a prisoner that hadn't been fed a good meal in days, “sunscreen.” The poor man should've stayed far far away from you. 

You weren’t crazy or desperate, but you couldn't resist. You had been patient and unusually upright so far. You deserved a treat. You were hungry and you knew your step-brother wanted you too, he wouldn't have felt the need to hide away otherwise. Youngjae had an interesting duality, shamelessly thirsting over you one minute and getting flustered and embarrassed the next. He must have been deeply unsettled by your open invitation because before you could flip over, he had claimed possession of the bottle. 

Or maybe he just didn't need to be asked twice this time. He knew. He wanted to give in to temptation. Why would he even come back here otherwise? 

Laying down, you reached to undo the bikini strings, pressing your loosely covered chest against the rough towel on the chair. You waited.

“You must really hate tan lines,” Youngjae said in your back, sounding tormented, “it seems you're never properly wearing clothes.” He sat down in slow motion like an obedient little boy as you grinned. 

“Are you ever gonna put your hands on me?” You teased once more, it was like a string was tugging up your insides through that dirty mouth of yours. You wanted to keep pushing him, wanted to find out what it'd take to make him break. And just fuck you really. It was fighting the inevitable by now. 

Every guy you met wanted to have you.

Usually, you didn't have to beg.

“I'm trying not to,” he admitted the obvious. “I promised I would never touch you,” Youngjae grumbled and you jerked in surprise when lotion spurted on your lower back. “Promised my father I’d treat you well.”

It made sense, a good boy would never disobey and do his dirty step-sister. If your legend preceded you, his golden son’s reputation certainly did too. Honestly, this promise made the taunting easier and even more tempting. It made for a funnier challenge and the spark in Youngjae's eyes when he looked at you hinted you could break him if you really tried.

You were about to defy his ethics again when words went back down your throat, letting way to a sharp sigh. He had suddenly fully committed to applying your sunscreen, fingers exploring your skin. You asked to be touched and he had risen to the occasion, firmly rubbing the lotion on your naked back. 

Earlier you had every intention of teasing him further by enjoying this a little too much, but you weren’t sure it was entirely voluntary when the first moan escaped. If he wanted to keep it PG, he probably should’ve stopped right there, but it didn't seem to deter your step-brother. He kept going, massaging you along the way. His thumbs traced circles up your spine until one of his palms cupped your nape. 

Perhaps this is what an erotic massage was supposed to feel like, heaven. Every stroke was totally appropriate, very perfect boy-ish, but still, your toes were curling. After a few minutes, Youngjae's breathing was heavy, he was enjoying this impromptu contact just as much.

You both had made yourselves obvious these past weeks; him with the eye-fucking, you with the open-truths. Clearly, the forbidden nature of your desires would make for an even more intense experience. You couldn't even imagine how it'd feel to take it further now. 

“I've never had a step-brother before,” you mewled, mentally following the downwards path of his hands.

“I bet you love messing with me,” he replied, barely audible. 

His pianist’s fingers were now haltingly sliding up your ribcage. He wasn't rubbing in anything anymore, just caressing all he could reach. 

He was right, but you wanted more. That was the sexiest thing that happened to you in forever. Having a guy want you bad enough he had to hide away to resit, and now having his hands on you. You wanted him everywhere, all over. You didn’t care; step-brother promises or not.

Giving in to temptation, you turned around, resting on your elbow. Your untied bikini had not followed so you watched as his face fell in realization. Youngjae's mouth opened in awe, eyes glued to your bare perky breasts. At the moment, there was absolutely nothing going on in that male brain of his. He didn’t move; you helped.

As soon as you put one of his hands on your chest, he came back to life. 

“Jesusfuck,” he breathed out, completely winded.

Wow.

Church baby boys were the best.

Entertained, you reached for the sunscreen, pouring lotion on yourself again. “You aren't done.”

“I…” Youngjae swallowed back his protests, cupping your boobs with both hands. He couldn't even look up anymore, enthralled by your nakedness.

No matter what their intentions were, it seemed good guys were still guys after all. If you had known he was this easy to overwhelm, you would’ve walked around topless sooner.

“The neighbours will see us...”

He didn't seem to mind that much, seeing as his thumbs were stroking your pierced nipples relentlessly. If those middle-aged housewives you only caught glimpses off looked over the edge now, they’d have a pretty impressive show. 

“Let them,” sitting, you snaked a hand to his dramatic bulge. Your mouths got so close you felt his breath ghost over. Beaten by your expertise, his shorts’ button came undone first, his fly was even more compliant. 

The moment of truth.

Youngjae's whole body shook when you took his cock in your palm. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing. Fuck, he was so hard and flushed for you. He pinched your erected nipples in response and you felt a familiar vivid jolt of pleasure and pain down to your toes. Not a virgin, after all, no doubt he would handle you just fine. 

You pressed your mouth to his neck and sucked, right where his Adam's apple bobbed.

That's it, all for you. You were so going to eat up that good boy.

“Mmmm, I’ll tell daddy you’re treating me so fucking well...”

Of all the filthy things you had said so far, this was the one that got the strongest reaction. The wrong one. Youngjae jerked up to his feet, tugging at his shorts in panic. He swore a dozen of times, out of his mind as you stood there, frozen still.

“Sorry,” he offered at last, pitiful before running for his life to the house. 

Fuck.

No.

Surely you were feverish. 

Having a heatstroke.

You had imagined the whole thing.

You had not just being left out cold by a man.

This type of shit never happened to girls like you. 

It took a few minutes to gather back your thoughts and when you did, you decided this wasn't even close to completion.

Without wasting a second more you stormed inside the house, almost flying upstairs to that mythical off-limits bedroom of his. You didn't bother banging, he was in such a hurry he forgot to lock behind, so the door flew open. 

Like a scene straight up from a bad porno, Youngjae spun on his computer chair, a hand still wrapped around his fully erected dick. You couldn't believe your eyes.

“Are you jerking off?” He was already pulling up his shorts again to cover himself, caught red-handed, blushing as though you hadn't been doing it yourself a moment ago.

“I’m sorry, I don't think you–”

“Please don't stop on my behalf,” you waltzed in, confident, and sat on his well-made good boy's bed.

“W-What?” Youngjae blinked, even more, rattled by the sight. 

He didn't leave because he didn't want you, he clearly did. He probably only left because of his father and that dumb promise he mentioned.

“Is this how you've been dealing all along?” You laid back on the comforter, smirking and remembering all those afternoons by the pool you’d thought you’d seen his curtains fall. He certainly enjoyed spying so it gave you an idea. He could try to resist you all he wanted, you'd still made him cave. “You don't want to touch me, right?” Your step-brother nodded, spellbound. “Because you're the perfect son.”

He swallowed hard, “But you keep… Saying those things, sunbathing… And to my friends...”

“Yes, you’re right... So let's start over.” You sighed in fake contrition, “I'm sorry, I've made this so hard for you. I’ll be good too from now on.”

Youngjae scoffed in disbelief, “You are sitting topless on my bed.”

“Oh,” looking down at yourself, you cupped your breasts. “I thought you liked the looking.” His cock was standing up, glorious testimony to this mess. “Don't worry, I get it. I promise I won’t let you touch me...” Throwing your head back without breaking eye contact, you moaned and lightly twisted one of your pierced nipples. “But I’ll make you watch...” Out of his mind, Youngjae did just that as you caressed your own chest for him. Somehow his eyes on you now burned even better than his hands earlier. 

You were so turned on, so worked up by all the days of teasing and loneliness. Your hips started swaying on his bed, craving some fiction and release. 

“You're crazy,” his voice was laboured but he had yet to escape again. This time you wouldn't have followed.

“I-I'm so wet, Youngjae...” Giving in, your right hand fell to your sex, rubbing your last piece of clothing. He was captivated. 

“Fuck it,” he immediately breathed out in surrender, hand wrapping around his dick. That was it, you finally had him. He was all in, playing along with your new favourite family game.

No touching, just innovative teamwork.

You had to establish ground rules, but pushing them was what fun was all about.

“I want you so bad...” You mewled, slipping your middle finger inside your bikini bottom.

Stroking himself, Youngjae groaned, “So you’ve been saying baby, but now you have to show me.”

Oh shit. You were going to come so fast if the golden son had other surprises like that. In a hurry, you wormed out of your panties before he could change his mind once more. In front of his fully clothed self, you laid back, touching your damp slit while he observed intently. The whole experience was surreal, your mind was buzzing, overwhelmed by the wrongness of it all.

It felt so amazing though.

Touching yourself for your step-brother was the sexiest thing you’d ever experienced, and you were very accomplished. You would’ve done anything he'd asked of you, and Youngjae knew that but he abided by his dumb rules. Standing up he came closer, boxer messily shoved down from his earlier haste, one hand was in his hair, the other working hard. You kept rubbing your clit repeatedly letting him see, hastening the pace until you were numb all over, panting. 

“Youngj-jae, I-I–”

Moaning, you broke faster than you had ever with someone, then again no one knew how to make you reach your own high better than yourself. Paroxysm made your thighs jerked as the pleasure waved through you, annihilating all sense of your surroundings.

When you came back, your step-brother was giving up too, bursting in thick spurts of hot cum all over your body and chest. His eyes were wide opened in black elation, intense, not missing a second of the show as he came on you. His whitish-gray seed painted your bareness in ribbons until he was completely emptied.

In silence, Youngjae dropped next to you on the bed, hands covering his face as you both caught your breaths. His now softening dick was still protruding out of his shorts and underwear for the world to see. It probably made for quite a view; your naked body covered in semen right by your respectable step-brother’s way more humble cock.

If your parents came home early, they would both have a stroke.

Youngjae sort of kept his word though... For today at least. 

Because now that you had him all over, you knew you were going to crave him under you.

And no man had ever resisted your charms before.

Step-brother or not.

[The Pleasure Chest: A Cringe Fest]

GOT7 | M.list

[christianmarkchristian]

N A K E D in H O L L Y W O O D

my autobiography, to be published daily or weekly,  AS IT IS WRITTEN. 

BEYOND SELF PUBLISHING: this is a 100% OPEN BOOK PROJECT 

-where I publish (share) AS (not after) I write, allowing readers to experience not just an autobiography but the experience of WRITING the autobiograpy as well.

on TUMBLR will be the BOOK in progress and eventualy, finished.

on FACEBOOK will be daily or weekly chapters/installments.

____________________________________________________________

PART 1

WHY WRITE AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY? Of course, its about the life of Christian Mark Christian but I intend to go into deeper themes as well:

1. God. If you are averse to God or Judaeo-Christian concepts about God, I hope you will not be “put off” by occasional references I will have to make in the course of remembering my life. My plan is not to be IN YOUR FACE about God but spiritual seeking has always been a huge part of my life and to omit this part would be to make the whole story a big lie.

2. VALUE - how we value our lives and our identity is critical to me and my development as a man. There is a fine line between thinking we are “so great that someone needs to write a book about us” and “our lives dont matter.” I have struggled GREATLY my whole life with feelings that my life isnt important, that I dont matter, that Ive been rejected and abandoned. Writing this will be the greatest therapy I can imagine. Writing this is telling myself, reminding myself, that I AM IMPORTANT and SO ARE YOU. 

3. Autobiography in the age of Interactivity. I’m not sure how many projects like this have been published online or in print but the thought occured to me that an autobiography can be, for the first time in history, more than a “book;” it can be an interactive EXPERIENCE. I can include links in my writing that take the reder to the places I am referencing. 

4. “To know is to love.” Honestly one thing that has always frustrated and disappointed me is that I feel like many or even MOST people “dont get me.” 

Too often I hear the word “weird” to describe me, when I would prefer to hear “unique” or “unusual.” I really am not even a fan of the word “eccentric.” 

Was Steve Jobs “weird?” Was Van Gogh “weird.”? Is Elon Musk “weird?” 

My feeling is that “weird” is considered a negative connotation or description, one I do not want and one that is hurtful when used to describe me. I dont feel like anyone who really knows me would ever call me “weird.” So,one huge function of this book is to eradicate the word “weird” as a description of Christian Mark Christian, once and for all and replace it with UNIQUE or RARE.  

Yeah, through no choice of my own, I’ve endured some things that are not typical of most lives. 

My dad’s suicide and that, co-inciding with the loss, at the same time, (divorce) of my Step-Dad. 

Millions have lost a Dad or a step dad through divorce or suicide but not as many have suffered both losses in the same year. 

Genius level IQ at age 7. 

Grew up around the world. 

Shared a 2-bedroom apartment with my Mom, until I got married at age 44.

Living with my ex-wife in an apartment in Hollywood, in an effort to heal and reconcile. 

Yeah-these are not typical of todays American “man”. I’m not “proud” of these things; nor am I ashamed of these things; I never planned on my life going the way it did. 

Regardless-when I became a Christian, at age 36,when I was “Born again,” I Iearned that God (if you choose to believe) “makes all things new” and “uses everything-even negative things, for eventual and ultimate good.” 

Regardless of the pain and tragedy I’d experienced, I was taught that it would all be used in a positive way, in time. 

Maybe this BOOK is that “positive way.” Maybe some who can relate will get a degree of emotional healing by reading; thats certainly my hope. 

But “to know is to Love.” I feel confident that many of my friends, in reading this book, will get to know me much better and in that, will be able to love me more. And who doesnt want to be loved.... and loved some more?

____________________________________________________________

part I

I was a second and final son, born seven years after my brother, into a USAF family, in Altus, Oklahoma. WWII was far enough behind but had left scars on my pilot Dad's psyche.

James (Jim) Charles Ralph, my Dad, dreamed of being an artist/illustrator for Foote, Cone & Belding, a top advertising agency. His creative dreams were cut short when the US let go of an isolationist foreign policy, geared up for war and he was drafted as a 19 year old, into the skies over his ancestral homeland (Germany.) 

As I understand it, Pearl Harbor "woke" us to the need to become involved again in foreign wars. Isolationist foreign policy would become a relic of the past; we quickly entered a war on several continents. 

Dad had grown up in Glendale, CA. a suburb that has since become a major Armenian cultural enclave in L.A. Ironic that I sit here typing this around eighty years later--a few miles west in another little enclave (part of Hollywood) officially called "Little Armenia." It really shows me that the themes and threads and patterns of life are stronger than we might think. In my case, I’ve been told that  the Apple hasnt fallen far from the tree.”

Armenia was, historically, the first place in the world where the name "Christian" was used to denote a follower of Christ. My primary care physician is Armenian and I am friends with several Armenians, so there seems to be a connection here, maybe one that will be explored in more depth as I write this...

-or maybe not.

The marriage was tempestuous. Jim, returning from the war and stationed at McDill AFB in Tampa, was driving a convertible and, the story goes, saw my Mom, Terry-a pretty young teen who modeled fashions for a local Department store. He was a handsome "flyer" or "Airman" and she fell for him, unaware of a Church background that would eventually drive a wedge between her his family.

  My paternal Grandmother, Carolyn Care, was a devout "Christian Scientist�� as my Aunt still is, at age 90-something.

She would insist that my Mom, who was a typical American mainstream Protestant Christian, submit to her and the Churches doctrine. "Science" is about the idea that all things are merely the projection of "mind" and that evil or sickness cant exist unless we agree with it and "project" it (wrongful thinking) on ourselves. I always questioned this growing up. Even at a young age, I sensed something about it I had trouble with. Later, as an adult who accepted Jesus as my Lord and Savior through various “Word of Faith” ministries, I saw that there was at least partial truths in “Science” even though I still could not follow Mary Baker Eddy’s doctrine in it’s entirety.

Apparently, several months pregnant with me, my Mom contracted pnuemonia or a similar ailment. Carolyn insisted that Terry not see the physician at the Altus Air Force base hospital but turn to a "Christian Science" practitioner instead. Rebelling finally, my Mom went to see the doctor at the base. He supposedly told her that, had she waited even another day, she might have lost the baby (me.) 

Only a few years later, at a Base in San Antonio, Texas, the troubled marriage fell apart with my Mom falling in love with my Pediatrician. I had asthma, most likely something that was brought on by the stress of my parents troubled marriage and she routinely brought me to see him at the base. Regardless of whether I chose to make these things a focus or no

t, they did shape who I choose to be today. I was raised from age 6-7 to 18, by a Pediatrician step-Dad (with my Mom) but my Paternal families Christian Science also had a strong influence on my thinking. 

It was an incredible duality and one I'm doubtful that many (or any?) others have experienced: a parental control and influence struggle between the ideals of Big pharm/modern medicine and "christian science," between the medical establishment and the "alternative healing" movements that originated in Christian metaphysical camps in19th century America.

Today, Health Care is probably the biggest debate in America. And the debate rages around the same two poles- alternative healing vs traditional medicine. Having deep experiential knowledge of both, puts me in a very unique position. Seeking, finding and practicing right doctrine ("righteousness") is central to my life and you can see why: wrong doctrine might have aborted me before I was born. RIght doctrine might have saved my life. The truth about God, his Love and his healing power, is not just "armchair theology" or something I engage in on special Holidays; its always at the core of every decision I make, every day of my life.

PART II

After surviving my Moms sickness and coming into this world as "Mark James Ralph," my first memory of infancy comes from our two story home in Cambridge, UK. where we moved when I was about 2?

My Dad was stationed at Alconbury AFB, about 25 miles away from Cambridge. I actually remember climbing out of my 2nd floor crib and crawling down the stairs, into the living area where my parents and 8 or 9 yr old brother were gathered!

Eventually I started walking and my best friend, a Brit, Andrew lived across the street.

We lived near open land where some Cows lived. I remember a Harvester machine that was called a “Combine” for some reason that I dont know.  I guess seeing it up close-the machinery, the complexity, the sheer power. The blades and the wheat being “threshed”. -All biblical themes, impressed me greatly...

We lived in a suburb of Cambridge, near some farmland and near a stand of trees called "the woods." 

My first "naked" (sexual) experiences were in Cambridge. I saw a male cow on the other side of the fence I was standing by, attempting to mate, jump up on top of a female cow. I was only a few feet away, on the other side of the fence--what the male cow did was so sudden, so unexpected and seemed -I dont have the word for it- not "brutal" (because it was "love" but invloved thousands of pounds of weight and muscle that could have killed a small child had I been involved!) but maybe just “alarming.” I was only about 4 or 5.

Now I’m going to bring up some very personal, private things that most people only reveal to their therapist. They may or may not end up in the final edit however I feel obligated, because of the name of the book-obligated to include them here...

I also initiated a "curious" childhood intimate encounter with Andrew in my bathroom at that time. I mention this only to bring up the topic of gay indocrination. I have no idea why, to this day but this "gay" encounter did not result in my growing up gay.

A few years later, in Wichita Falls, Texas, I initiated another "curious" encounter with a girl my age. We knelt down beside the wheel well of a car in the parking lot of our Apt complex, "TheTimbers" in the dark, at night, where I lifted her skirt to investigate her private parts.

She seemed to go along with it; at least there were no protests, as there had been none with Andrew. Apparently, I preferred the "female" more than the male because I never again had a sexual encounter with a male. Interesting that I remember Andrews name but not the girls name! Is this kind of thing just wired into our DNA? I think so.

I'm not sure what this says about the "born gay" issue but there it is... The result (I think) of these encounters, was this: even as a very young child, I had strong sexual urges which I had no trouble acting on when the opportunity arose. I dont remember sexual feelings ever becoming obsessive ( a good thing) but they were for sure there.

On another note, I remember walking off with Andrew (I think) into the local "woods." Woods is a cool name that has returned as the Church (M O S A I C) I attend locally uses the word in place of "Hollywood." They have several Campuses and use the term "The Woods" for the Hollywood Campus.

Andrew and I apparently, around age 4-5? decided to go on a hike into the woods one day, without telling anyone. My parents (not sure about his) were pretty upset. When I returned, they were happy I was safe. I never did anything so "adventurous" again. I think that was because I didnt want my parents to be so stressed.

I also remember a somewhat traumatic event around the time I was in my crib: my brother had caught a minnow, in a local stream. He had kept it in a jar aqaurium placed on my windowsill. The disturbing thing was that the fish jumped out of its "cage" (the jar) one day and out the window, falling two stories to its death on the concrete (or something hard) surface below.

By age 4 or 5, I had already seen and/or experienced both sex and death. Hollywood, here I (decades later) came.  

Part III

Ahhh, England. I have such fond memories of the years I spent there as a child-truly formative years and I am so deeply thankful that my formative years were spent there. To my best recollection, I spent my 2nd, 3rd and 4th years in Cambridge. 

When I began to speak (at a precocious young age) I spoke with an English accent. I remember my Mom dropping me off at "Shrubbery School" for the first time and the fear of abandonment I felt.I remember my first teacher, a wonderful Lady named "Mrs Clark" and how I related that to a candy bar that existed around that time, known as a "Clark Bar." 

My Mom dropped my off in our English Sports car-I think it was red, a "Sunbeam Alpine." That car was shipped all the way to Texas eventually and my Mom kept it even through her divorcing my Dad. Cambridge was rich with experience and wonder. I cant imagine a more perfect place for my early years and it left a deep appreciation for Brits in my soul, still there to this day. I would go so far as to even call myself an "Anglophile."

At school, we memorized the multiplication tables and began to learn the alphabet-at age 4! When we moved to San Antonio, TX, -when I was five-the school system there wanted to place me in Kindergarten! 

Thank god for the Mt Olive Lutheran School (off the 410 "loop") -where my parents eventually enrolled me. They were still not as advanced as Shrubbery School back in Cambridge, did but at least a better option than public schools.

My mind is flooded with lush beautiful imagery from Cambridge: 

-my Mom riding horseback in the countryside with her Horse riding club 

(and how later that might have played a factor in two girls I was attracted to and a novel "Diana" that affected me deeply in my teens) 

-My brother Christopher playing "conker" with Chestnuts tied to sholeaces! (only the brits would devise a game like this!)

-My brother relating a Jaguar or some other sports car "flying" by his school at some increditble speed. The drama and awe with which he related this formed in me an early apprecation for fast cars,one which has continued to this day.

The "punts" on the Cam river and the gorgeous Colleges in Cambridge, that all seemed to be named after Jesus or Mary! 

When I hear Christians acting as though the intellect isnt important now, I cringe. Cambridge was the birthplace of intellectualism and Christian thought. C.S. Lewis lived and worked there. Christianity is the most advanced culture of philosophy and Academic systems. The fact that atheism largely eradicated these roots  in the 20th Century is a very sad thing indeed and something I hope my life can be part of reversing. For Centuries, being a Christian and being an intellectual, a thinker, were synonomous. While I appreciate experiential knowledge and mysticism, lets not throw out suc a glorious inheritance so easily.

."http://histclo.com/country/eng/pe/pe60johnsc.html

NOTES for more stories to come: 1. B-day in St Tropez, the large round tray of raosted nuts, possible topless female sunbathers. The back seat of the VW bug, winding through the mountains in South of France, then LifeCycling through the area as an adult working out "Spinning" Berchtesgarden, the Bus, the rock thrown down the cliff into the forest, the rock that broke something...My brother and the Jaguar going 100. Shrubbery School, the rubbish can, "conquer" nut game with chestnuts. My brothers weird hobby of using sewing kits to lower things out hotel windows, then later doing the same to recover bottle caps in San Antonio. The possibility of this project being a catalyst for restoring my relationship with my brother and even step-Dad. How God restores family. The "punts" on the river Cam, Wimpy Burges and Brits eating burgers with knife and fork. How I envisined "the states" and in my mind saw a Giant "steak. The pass-through window-a first architectural design feature. My first bike, how I copied Andrew and the bike had front wheel brakes, how we'd ride around the block. Snow, and my first snowman, snowball fights.going w my family into some woods where my Dad chopped down a Christmas tree. First Christmas's. Alconbury AFB, the hangar. I was impressed and it made my Dad look so cool. I felt bad that he had to drive 25 miles, that seemed so far. Our trips to London. FIsh & Chips. Sightseeing, the trains. The White cliffs of Dover. My favorite TV show about the creatures that lived on the banks fo the river.

Highlights of a life well and not so well, lived:                        

Lived in or visited: the UK, Germany, The Netherlands, Belgium, Texas, MS, NorCal, FLA, DC, Virginia, West VA, New Orleans, AZ, New Mexico, Austria, Switzerland, Denmark, France. HIGHLIGHTS:

Celebrated my 4th B-day in the South of France. Crossed the English Channel age, 12 on a Hover craft

Visited (Hitler’s lair in Berchtesgarden) age 4.

Visited Monticello (Jefferson’s home) age 4

Crossed the Atlantic in a commercial Airliner several times, aged 4-14.

Skied in the Swiss Alps and Lake Tahoe, age 10-12.

Lived in a Penthouse on the Rhine river, age 11-12.

Rode the train from Wiesbaden to Stuttgart, Germany age 12.

Visited Castles on the Rhine river, age 11-13.

Flew, as 10 yr old passenger, in a small Cessna, from San Diego to Tampa.

Rode or drove from the South or Texas, to CA, several times age 10-30’s.

Crossed the Pacific (Hawaii) as an adult.Vacationed in Maui, Palm Springs, Santa Barbara, Switzerland, The Netherlands, London, Paris.

Attended several F1 “Grand Prix” races around Europe and Long Beach, CA and Autosports events, age 8-12, Around America. Won several non-pro autosports trophies, age 20-22. Won #1 Singles (Tennis) MVP Trophy in High School, age 18.  

Got to State Finals on HS Tennis team age 18.

Won several 1st place ribbons in Biloxi, MS Art Shows, age 17.

Was offered Art Scholarship to Ole Miss University, age 18.

Paid $5000 to write a Greek Comedy movie script (Middle Age)

Twice paid $5000 to paint oil portraits (Middle Age)

Starred in a Prime Time major News Network Reality Show (one episode) (Middle Age)

Enjoyed hundreds of hikes in Griffith Park and other local trails. (Middle Age)

Had two jobs as live-in Private Chef in a $1.5M luxury Homes (Middle Age) in the Hills, in L.A.

Was hired by Ben Affleck, given my own trailer and worked on an Oscar winning film (ARGO, as on-camera hand double/sketch artist) Middle Age. As a visionary: saw self driving cars, in 2002, mobile hands free phones in 1995, “Gravity” script, in the 1980’s, MTV music videos, at age 12, years before MTV, the Hyperloop in 1995. Written 12 feature film “spec” scripts (Young-Middle Age) Married 11 years, divorced and re-established financial trust with my ex wife, now close friends and writing partners with her. Have experienced total melt-down/destruction of a marriage and the total rebuilding of that friendship. Have been friends with a few celebs. (actors, singers) Partied in Hollywood clubs and luxury homes, all over Los Angeles, hundreds of times. 25--Middle age Attended numerous Pop Music or Rock concerts at almost every venue all over Los Angeles. Age 12-Middle Age Interviewed on a West L.A. Sound stage, along with 5 of my paintings, for a SHOWTIME 35 mm film doc on Marilyn Monroe that Premiered at the Palm Springs Int. Film Festival, age-30’sAttended the Premiere of that Film, in Palm Springs, where I enjoyed minor, fleeting celebrity status.My art appeared once, in PEOPLE magazine.

30’sI enjoyed backstage at a MOODY BLUES concert at Universal Amphitheater.

20’sI had a Publicist for my Art -30’s.

I’ve had front-row box seats at the Hollywood Bowl. Middle AgeI

met the Great-grandson of the founder of Hollywood. Middle age

I’ve visited or worked on, every major studio lot in Los Angeles and Hollywood. Young-Middle AgeI’ve enjoyed beaches in Maui, Los Angeles, Northern California, Mississippi, Florida and The Netherlands. 4-Middle Age I attempted to surf in Malibu. 20’s Been to Art Museums all over the world, including numerous visits to the Getty in Brentwood. 4-Middle Age Helped my architect brother flip homes many times in Los Angeles. 20’sDesigned many residences as an Architecture student/aspiring architect, in High School. Designed and contracted a hip, post-modern Silver Lake Laundry to Bathroom conversion, in budget. Middle Age Enjoyed hundreds of great shoulder/full body/foot massages Young-Middle age Swam in secluded pools on Maui -Middle AgeHad amazing revelatory spiritual experiences as a Christian 20’s-Middle Age. Attended/Worshipped Jesus at almost 20 different Church locations all over Los Angeles over 1000 times since 1993. Studied every major religion in depth 20’s-Middle Age. Sold almost 200 original paintings. 20’s Middle Age Had several one-man shows at Cacao, a popular West L.A. Coffee shop, owned by the Designer of iconic BigFoot Lodge in Atwater Village. 30’sCurated several group shows at Cacao. 30’s Participated in several ground breaking group show/parties at the infamous Black Cat Gallery in Mar Vista. Middle Age Been paid as: Photographer, Designer, Contractor, Writer, Musician, Oil Portraitist, Organizer and Chef. 12-Middle Age Worked on almost 200 professional movie, TV or commercial sets in a variety of positions. Middle Age Written, Directed and Produced several low budget short films and/or videos. Middle Age Created authentic food from many international cuisines. 30’s Middle Age Enjoyed about $5000-$10,000 in the finest restaurant cuisine in L.A., New Orleans, Germany, the Netherlands and France. 4-Middle age Briefly co-owned, with my then-wife, a catering company which catered several events. Middle Age Briefly co-owned, with a friend, a failed Hollywood event company. Middle Age.