An underwhelming childhood in the old country. Rural life as the youngest child meant his brothers and father did everything for him, because the family baby was not expected to pull his own weight. Of course he took the out. What child wouldn't?
Forgettable teen years wasted on video games and TV. He could have spent that time and money learning something valuable. He could have asked his father to teach him something. Anything! Anything more than throwing his time down the drain. It was only after the last saccharine years of true childhood did he realize his mistake, and did his desire to be more begin tocatalyze.
Moving to the states amid the unrest of their old home, and a highschool life that amounted to nothing. Oh, it seemed like everything at the time. The sudden burst of popularity at being foreign and having an accent felt incredible, because he stood out and made a difference! He was more! Julian's first girlfriend swooned over him, then broke his heart a month later. He loved too easily, too intensely, and it ended with him in pain more often than not. Few were as confused and desperate to find themselves as Julian was. His wish to be more grew without check.
Then mom passed away.
Oh, mom... Her constitution was ever so weak. Bearing four sons in the poor, rural old country and the sudden upheaval of moving to a new home was harsh on a petite waif of a woman like her. The flaxen hair she shared with Julian dulled rapidly over the years and weight would slide off her bones. One late night, she settled gingerly in bed with a book before falling asleep. She didn't rise the next day.
The dizzying, tear-filled weeks that followed were the worst of Julian's young life. Mom's death sucked the life from dad, and it was all Julian and his brothers could do to not kill each other in frustration. Nerves stayed raw for years afterward, but the part that truely stayed with Julian? Just how few people attended mom's funeral.
She was a woman worthy of the entire town showing up to mourn. She struck out, making connections and meeting people despite her health. She volunteered for the community, greeted all with a smile, and was fair no matter what. How many besides dad, Julian's brothers, and Julian himself showed up?
Three. Just three. The local minister, the lonely old man from down the lane, and one of Julian's teachers.
In just a year, mom was forgotten, reduced to a framed picture on the mantle. Dad rarely spoke of her, his brothers rarely spoke of her, and no one else spoke of her at all. One night, Julian slinked from his bed and to the mantle, looking at mom's smiling photo for what felt like hours.
The woman in the photo looked different from his memories. Not much, but enough to notice. Julian had started to forget her.
Something broke. Something inside him shattered. The raging fire flowing through his veins no longer urged him to be more, but something. Something everyone knows, something unforgettable. Mom may have been Something to him, but to everyone else? Nothing.
His college years and internships were spent with his nose to the grindstone. Vices like women and drinking and partying and socialising were left at the door as he worked his damnedest to be Something. His dreams of a medical doctorate were quickly crushed when he flunked out. He tried and tried again, but something just didn't click, forcing him to shoot lower and settle with technical courses.
Bouncing from job to job, looking for something that didn't crush his soul, that didn't extinguish his want to be Something. Then finally getting an offer from DARPA. A twenty-five year old Julian was over the moon. This is where he would find his excitement and make a place in the world!
Nope. It's just like every other government job. Lethargic and unfulfilling.
Maybe that's all Julian Angelo was to amount to in the grander scheme. Being an unfulfilled cog. To be Something was beyond him.
He scoffs and banishes the dour thoughts. "No. There's more to life than that. I know it." Then he glances at the door against his back. "Whatever they're doing out there, it better not-"
His words are cut off as brilliant white light swallows his vision and the sound of a waterfall overwhelms all else.
To anyone outside the building, it would look like an enormous section of it simply vanished, instantly evaporating out of existence, leaving the highest floors to fall and crumble. The panic set in instantly afterward, and first responders swarmed the scene, shocked by the huge crater where the government building was.
Federal agents slinked their way in, and when nothing could be recovered, they wove a narrative to cover everything up.
A disgruntled, extremist employee with an unknown motive smuggled explosives in the building and blew the entire place to kingdom come. The yield was so high, that much of the building and many of the bodies were destroyed beyond recognition. Anyone who pointed out the holes in the story went ignored.
Some people mourned while others were angry, the President addressed the tragedy with practiced sympathy, the news ran the story for a week, then life went on as normal.
Or life went on as normal for most...
Birdsong. Birdsong is the first thing to greet Julian's ears when he feels the snaring fingers of sleep release their hold on him. 'Great. Did someone catch me sleeping at my desk again? Pranks like this got old after the first time.'
Slowly, the man blinks his green eyes only to shut them again when a beam of sunlight catches him through the canopy of green leaves above. 'Hold on. What?'
Suddenly aware of soft grass tickling his scalp through his hair, Julian groans and raises himself up into a seated position, crossing his legs as he does so. He blinks his eyes open again and looks around as he combs loose grass from his hair.