the beast in me.

There could not have been two more different people on the face of the planet; Jasmine and Patrick were truly polar opposites in every sense of the word, but it fueled their dynamic chemistry and kept their friendship fresh and alive through some of the toughest obstacles life could throw at them. They made their bones together in elementary school and rarely seen apart after that fateful day. Jasmine's father spent as much of his life behind bars for running moonshine as he did walking the streets as a free man, Patrick's family made a living in the deepest recesses of the south by hunting alligators, frogs, deer, and anything else they could sell. There was a brief time in their life together that they were separated, neither of them took kindly to it. Patrick was gifted with an athletic scholarship to Louisiana State University and Jasmine couldn't quit her job as a cashier at the gas station to go with him, she was determined never to move in with her father again. A broken arm brought him home and right back into the apartment they shared as roommates, but the best friends did not stay there long.

All it took was Patrick's mother slapping him, wedding ring spun inward to leave a gash across his cheek, and the trunk of his dinged, battleworn Chevelle was packed down with garbage bags of clothes and suitcases. Everything Jasmine and Patrick owned fit, albeit haphazardly, into the old muscle car. Neither of them looked back as they left their parish behind them in a cloud of smoke and gasoline fumes. Later, Patrick would swear that it was the longest road trip anyone anywhere had ever taken. Worthy even of the Guinness Book, he would say. The pair stopped in Phoenix for a few weeks, San Diego, Malibu, Boise, Seattle. They lived out of the Chevelle -- a cooler in the backseat floorboard stocked with cola and beer, a fat bag of marijuana in the glove compartment, and their spare change jangling all over the vehicle for inevitable stops to do laundry. Purely platonic thus far into their friendship, it was somewhere between Boise and Helena that their laughter turned into quiet looks and their innocent hand holding graduated changed into desperate groping.

Patrick and Jasmine were somewhere between friends and occasional lovers by the time they landed in Reno. Both of them liked the city and they were getting crowded in the Chevelle. What they both needed, Jasmine informed Patrick very matter-of-factly, was steady jobs and an affordable place to live. The booming economy gave them both of those things, Patrick as a lawn maintenance man with a reputable company and Jasmine a bank teller that fought her stinky finger impulses. Adulthood, it would seem, did not offer much time for spontaneity and lively spirits, but Patrick didn't seem to mind the change too much. Jasmine, on the other hand, felt a resentment toward it and often referred to herself as a bird with clipped wings. In late July of 1981, Jasmine found out that she was carrying Patrick's first child. Neither of them reacted negatively, neither of them felt the need to rush into marriage, neither of them felt the need to stop dating other people casually. Pregnancy was just another part of their friendship, it would seem.

Matius Atley Fowler was born on the second day of February the following year and, surprisingly enough, Jasmine insisted that he be named after her grandfather -- the only male in her family that she still spoke to in the rare instance that she called home. Matius was a name that the young boy would grow up to dislike, but not complain too much about in the long run. Recovery from birth was a breeze for the young mother and soon after that, between changing the baby Atley's diapers and burping him after a bottle, Jasmine realized that motherhood was perhaps more time consuming than anything she had ever encountered. In the middle of the night, a few days before Atley turned three months old, she was weeping into the crook of Patrick's neck; Jasmine didn't stop until his shirt was drenched with her emotions. That night little Atley's clothes and possessions were packed up. They were neatly packed into the back of the Chevelle by Patrick and his son officially moved into his small studio apartment with him.

"At least one of you has grown up a little," was all Patrick's mother said about the event that forever changed the way he viewed himself as a man. Childhood was good to Atley, however, and his parents always made sure that he had what he needed and some of the things he wanted. Though he didn't live with his mother, Jasmine was not absent in his life. Not by a long shot. They had family dinners, he spent nights on end sleeping on her fold out couch bed, and she never missed a single school event that Atley was involved in. Patrick was the biggest influence of his life, though. Patrick provided stability, a strong example, and security. Like most parents and their children, Atley and Patrick fought like wet cats from the time Atley could speak the word "no" very clearly. The authoritative parent, Patrick never hesitated in holding his ground and Atley had gotten that through his skull by the time he was a teenager.

Having spent the majority of his grade school years in boy scouts, 4H, and reading clubs, Atley went a different direction in high school. His natural athletic build lent him to basketball, but that fell a short and steadfast second to football, which Atley excelled at immediately. It was an active lifestyle to say the least, especially with baby sister always tucked under him. Home economics was his favorite class, much to the surprise of his friends, but he had absolutely no shame in it. Not only was he taught to cook, but he could stitch his own clothes and make a budget. Looking back, these were all things that shaped Atley in some way. Girlfriends came and went as quickly as the seasons, as much as the seasons can in Nevada, at least, but they kept him busy. They kept him running the roads and in constant need of money. Football began to slack, because his grades were more important to him and soon enough having a job to fund his habit of dating was also. Patrick had no problem supporting his two children, even while he and Jasmine were in and out of relationships with other people and somehow finding time to have a daughter together, but Atley noticed that help was needed.

His memories of high school was riddled with football practices, late night cramming for tests, bussing his kid sister to and from her activities, and trying to manage a social life to keep him feeling seventeen -- opposed to thirty seven. It's true that Atley had to grow up faster than the average child does, but it's something he doesn't find himself resenting. Just like his father, Atley had a chance to go to college, but he couldn't do it to his sister. She needed money to continue doing the things she was used to doing -- dance, basketball, scrapbooking. Patrick was still with the lawn company, but the spike in living expenses over time had taken a tole on his ability to provide much outside of the necessary. The little girl had no idea how heart wrenching it was each time she begged to do something that their father couldn't afford. Those memories heavy on his heart, Atley took a job with a construction company named Suffolk and he never thought twice about the decision.

Construction work was hard on Atley; however, construction work was hard on anyone that was willing to do it, especially anyone that was willing to stick with it. It made his bones strong, but it made his bones ache. The money was good, though, and it was enough to help his family -- his sister and his mother. Patrick was glad for the help, but hated that his son had to make such a sacrifice. Atley liked to joke that he had a weak mind and a strong back. It didn't take him long to realize that there was a lot of money and a future in construction work. While his peers were studying and busting their asses in college, he was doing the same thing on the job site. There was always something to remember, some information to retain, intuitive thinking required. Certainly not a pretty job, Atley put all his faith in the company's policy of promoting from within and he ran full steam ahead at his goal of making it big.

Not long after he began working from dawn til dusk, a woman entered his life and she made sure that Atley didn't forget her after one night. The signs of Vianna's mental illness should have been obvious to Atley when she showed up at his job site unannounced after their one night stand, insisting that he go to lunch with her. If that didn't do it for him then the way she would randomly appear wherever he was should have tipped him off. For whatever reason, though, he had no idea what he was getting into and instead found the small gestures endearing as most people do when they're tangled up in lust. She was a beautiful woman by Atley's standards, with long legs and curly brown hair that flowed freely around her shoulders. There was something in her eyes that he found himself getting lost in. One year to the day after their first date, Atley found himself standing in front of their families and reciting ancient vows of eternal love to a woman that, by all pretense and purposes, he barely knew outside of... well, sex.

It didn't take long before the new wore off, though, and Atley's long work hours led to irritation with her constantly showing up at the job and Vianna taking his general aggravation as a guilty conscious. The two began fighting before they even made it home from their very short honeymoon. By the fourth month, it wasn't just work's long hours that had Atley exhausted, but thankfully his father-in-law stepped in and let him know that "Vivianna has a hard time staying on her medicine, especially when she's happy." How she could be happy fighting like cats and dogs, Atley couldn't decipher but it was time for a sit down of epic proportions. The fight that followed was unexpected, it was loud, it was dangerous, and it left their kitchen floor riddled with broken dishes. Embarrassed, Vivianna couldn't look at Atley and felt that him knowing about her manic depression and bipolar disorder somehow made her unappealing.

That was her reason, apparently, for not taking her medications. By the time they had been married two years, they were in couple's therapy and Atley was pracitcally begging her to stay medicated. Vivianna felt attacked and cornered by Atley and the therapist. They only made it to four sessions. The third year brought a threat to leave from Atley, followed closely by a pregnancy scare from Vivianna. A promotion at work added stress to Atley so he found himself sitting in a doctor's office, describing his marriage and his job as a foreman at Suffolk and his mother's increasing need to ask for money. He left with a prescription for Celexa 20MG and the doctor assuring him that he wasn't the nutcase in his marriage. "We have to see a therapist. You need therapy," Atley told Vivanna and, seeing how desperate and close to leaving he was, Vivianna attended private therapy. Well, she claimed to go, at least.

The following couple of years were much like the previous three as far as his marriage went, though the violence from Vivianna escalated toward the end. April 2008, Atley filed for divorce from his once perfect bride and the news did not go over well. Atley quietly packed his clothes and the few personal belongings he could not live without, then sought refuge in the comfort of his father's home. Vivianna began to plot, swearing that if she couldn't have Atley then no one would. It took two months to get Vivianna's signature on the divorce papers, which stated that she could have the house, both vehicles, and all of their personal belongings. Atley even went as far as to give her the IRA he had started in her name and half of what he had accumulated in savings. Anything to get out of the most unhealthy situation he had ever been in.

A few days after his divorce was finalized, in the early hours of the morning, Atley received a call from his mother; Patrick had been in a fatal head on collision with a drunk driver. The next few weeks passed in a blur to Atley. Signing papers at work, signing papers at the funeral home, sitting for long periods of time in the complete silence in a dark room. At the age of twenty six, Atley had to wonder how his life had gotten to this point. Losing a lover, followed closely by losing a parent brought a pain to Atley's heart that felt crushing and suffocating. Losing his father left scars on his heart deeper than the ones Vivianna left on his arms with her nails. His company let him take a paid leave of absence and during his time away, they decided that it would be best for Atley, especially for his safety, if he were transferred to a different office. They debated their Los Angeles office, but ultimately decided on Seattle where he could settle into the city life quietly on the outskirts. Atley, once he returned to the office, knew that it was the right choice and wasted no time renting a UHaul.

Little sister under him, Atley didn't hesitate to make the move to Seattle and he settled nicely into his new position at project manager. His nose was rubbed raw from the grindstone, one might say of his determination and thirst to prove himself. Coming from a lower middle class family, Atley wanted nothing more than to provide better for his future family and knew that advancements at work and wise financial decisions were the key to that. Now he was competing with educated men, men who were taught in a classroom how to read blueprints. Not men who learned how to do it in the cab of a filthy work truck. "There is something about you," the president of the entire corporation would say to Atley in the rare and few instances that they met. He had no idea. Over time, as he adapted to his new position, Atley began to smoke the competition.

Work was a welcome distraction from the grief of losing his father... and also fear of his ex wife. Incidents were kept to a bare minimum, thankfully; Vivianna only found Atley once and after bloodying his little sister's nose in an attempt to get in his apartment, charges were filed and prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. She served her five months in a county jail in Nevada and it must have done the trick, because Atley never heard from her again. His baby sister's nose healed beautifully, he could barely see the new scars on his forearms when the scratches healed up. After moving to Park Slope, a new woman entered his life and two years later heartache burned in Atley's chest when she left for Los Angeles to follow her dream of singing. Leaving him with their three day old son and a hole in his chest. Nothing about Atley has changed. Except now he was a fan of craft beer and always keeps a chilled mug in the freezer.

	matius atley fowler There could not have been two more different people on the face of the planet; Jasmine and Patrick were truly polar opposites in every sense of the word, but it fueled their dynamic chemistry and kept their friendship fresh and alive through some of the toughest obstacles life could throw at them. They made their bones together in elementary school and rarely seen apart after that fateful day. Jasmine's father spent as much of his life behind bars for running moonshine as he did walking the streets as a free man, Patrick's family made a living in the deepest recesses of the south by hunting alligators, frogs, deer, and anything else they could sell. There was a brief time in their life together that they were separated, neither of them took kindly to it. Patrick was gifted with an athletic scholarship to Louisiana State University and Jasmine couldn't quit her job as a cashier at the gas station to go with him, she was determined never to move in with her father again. A broken arm brought him home and right back into the apartment they shared as roommates, but the best friends did not stay there long. All it took was Patrick's mother slapping him, wedding ring spun inward to leave a gash across his cheek, and the trunk of his dinged, battleworn Chevelle was packed down with garbage bags of clothes and suitcases. Everything Jasmine and Patrick owned fit, albeit haphazardly, into the old muscle car. Neither of them looked back as they left their parish behind them in a cloud of smoke and gasoline fumes. Later, Patrick would swear that it was the longest road trip anyone anywhere had ever taken. Worthy even of the Guinness Book, he would say. The pair stopped in Phoenix for a few weeks, San Diego, Malibu, Boise, Seattle. They lived out of the Chevelle -- a cooler in the backseat floorboard stocked with cola and beer, a fat bag of marijuana in the glove compartment, and their spare change jangling all over the vehicle for inevitable stops to do laundry. Purely platonic thus far into their friendship, it was somewhere between Boise and Helena that their laughter turned into quiet looks and their innocent hand holding graduated changed into desperate groping. Patrick and Jasmine were somewhere between friends and occasional lovers by the time they landed in Reno. Both of them liked the city and they were getting crowded in the Chevelle. What they both needed, Jasmine informed Patrick very matter-of-factly, was steady jobs and an affordable place to live. The booming economy gave them both of those things, Patrick as a lawn maintenance man with a reputable company and Jasmine a bank teller that fought her stinky finger impulses. Adulthood, it would seem, did not offer much time for spontaneity and lively spirits, but Patrick didn't seem to mind the change too much. Jasmine, on the other hand, felt a resentment toward it and often referred to herself as a bird with clipped wings. In late July of 1981, Jasmine found out that she was carrying Patrick's first child. Neither of them reacted negatively, neither of them felt the need to rush into marriage, neither of them felt the need to stop dating other people casually. Pregnancy was just another part of their friendship, it would seem. Matius Atley Fowler was born on the second day of February the following year and, surprisingly enough, Jasmine insisted that he be named after her grandfather -- the only male in her family that she still spoke to in the rare instance that she called home. Matius was a name that the young boy would grow up to dislike, but not complain too much about in the long run. Recovery from birth was a breeze for the young mother and soon after that, between changing the baby Atley's diapers and burping him after a bottle, Jasmine realized that motherhood was perhaps more time consuming than anything she had ever encountered. In the middle of the night, a few days before Atley turned three months old, she was weeping into the crook of Patrick's neck; Jasmine didn't stop until his shirt was drenched with her emotions. That night little Atley's clothes and possessions were packed up. They were neatly packed into the back of the Chevelle by Patrick and his son officially moved into his small studio apartment with him. "At least one of you has grown up a little," was all Patrick's mother said about the event that forever changed the way he viewed himself as a man. Childhood was good to Atley, however, and his parents always made sure that he had what he needed and some of the things he wanted. Though he didn't live with his mother, Jasmine was not absent in his life. Not by a long shot. They had family dinners, he spent nights on end sleeping on her fold out couch bed, and she never missed a single school event that Atley was involved in. Patrick was the biggest influence of his life, though. Patrick provided stability, a strong example, and security. Like most parents and their children, Atley and Patrick fought like wet cats from the time Atley could speak the word "no" very clearly. The authoritative parent, Patrick never hesitated in holding his ground and Atley had gotten that through his skull by the time he was a teenager. Having spent the majority of his grade school years in boy scouts, 4H, and reading clubs, Atley went a different direction in high school. His natural athletic build lent him to basketball, but that fell a short and steadfast second to football, which Atley excelled at immediately. It was an active lifestyle to say the least, especially with baby sister always tucked under him. Home economics was his favorite class, much to the surprise of his friends, but he had absolutely no shame in it. Not only was he taught to cook, but he could stitch his own clothes and make a budget. Looking back, these were all things that shaped Atley in some way. Girlfriends came and went as quickly as the seasons, as much as the seasons can in Nevada, at least, but they kept him busy. They kept him running the roads and in constant need of money. Football began to slack, because his grades were more important to him and soon enough having a job to fund his habit of dating was also. Patrick had no problem supporting his two children, even while he and Jasmine were in and out of relationships with other people and somehow finding time to have a daughter together, but Atley noticed that help was needed. His memories of high school was riddled with football practices, late night cramming for tests, bussing his kid sister to and from her activities, and trying to manage a social life to keep him feeling seventeen -- opposed to thirty seven. It's true that Atley had to grow up faster than the average child does, but it's something he doesn't find himself resenting. Just like his father, Atley had a chance to go to college, but he couldn't do it to his sister. She needed money to continue doing the things she was used to doing -- dance, basketball, scrapbooking. Patrick was still with the lawn company, but the spike in living expenses over time had taken a tole on his ability to provide much outside of the necessary. The little girl had no idea how heart wrenching it was each time she begged to do something that their father couldn't afford. Those memories heavy on his heart, Atley took a job with a construction company named Suffolk and he never thought twice about the decision. Construction work was hard on Atley; however, construction work was hard on anyone that was willing to do it, especially anyone that was willing to stick with it. It made his bones strong, but it made his bones ache. The money was good, though, and it was enough to help his family -- his sister and his mother. Patrick was glad for the help, but hated that his son had to make such a sacrifice. Atley liked to joke that he had a weak mind and a strong back. It didn't take him long to realize that there was a lot of money and a future in construction work. While his peers were studying and busting their asses in college, he was doing the same thing on the job site. There was always something to remember, some information to retain, intuitive thinking required. Certainly not a pretty job, Atley put all his faith in the company's policy of promoting from within and he ran full steam ahead at his goal of making it big. Not long after he began working from dawn til dusk, a woman entered his life and she made sure that Atley didn't forget her after one night. The signs of Vianna's mental illness should have been obvious to Atley when she showed up at his job site unannounced after their one night stand, insisting that he go to lunch with her. If that didn't do it for him then the way she would randomly appear wherever he was should have tipped him off. For whatever reason, though, he had no idea what he was getting into and instead found the small gestures endearing as most people do when they're tangled up in lust. She was a beautiful woman by Atley's standards, with long legs and curly brown hair that flowed freely around her shoulders. There was something in her eyes that he found himself getting lost in. One year to the day after their first date, Atley found himself standing in front of their families and reciting ancient vows of eternal love to a woman that, by all pretense and purposes, he barely knew outside of... well, sex. It didn't take long before the new wore off, though, and Atley's long work hours led to irritation with her constantly showing up at the job and Vianna taking his general aggravation as a guilty conscious. The two began fighting before they even made it home from their very short honeymoon. By the fourth month, it wasn't just work's long hours that had Atley exhausted, but thankfully his father-in-law stepped in and let him know that "Vivianna has a hard time staying on her medicine, especially when she's happy." How she could be happy fighting like cats and dogs, Atley couldn't decipher but it was time for a sit down of epic proportions. The fight that followed was unexpected, it was loud, it was dangerous, and it left their kitchen floor riddled with broken dishes. Embarrassed, Vivianna couldn't look at Atley and felt that him knowing about her manic depression and bipolar disorder somehow made her unappealing. That was her reason, apparently, for not taking her medications. By the time they had been married two years, they were in couple's therapy and Atley was pracitcally begging her to stay medicated. Vivianna felt attacked and cornered by Atley and the therapist. They only made it to four sessions. The third year brought a threat to leave from Atley, followed closely by a pregnancy scare from Vivianna. A promotion at work added stress to Atley so he found himself sitting in a doctor's office, describing his marriage and his job as a foreman at Suffolk and his mother's increasing need to ask for money. He left with a prescription for Celexa 20MG and the doctor assuring him that he wasn't the nutcase in his marriage. "We have to see a therapist. You need therapy," Atley told Vivanna and, seeing how desperate and close to leaving he was, Vivianna attended private therapy. Well, she claimed to go, at least. The following couple of years were much like the previous three as far as his marriage went, though the violence from Vivianna escalated toward the end. April 2008, Atley filed for divorce from his once perfect bride and the news did not go over well. Atley quietly packed his clothes and the few personal belongings he could not live without, then sought refuge in the comfort of his father's home. Vivianna began to plot, swearing that if she couldn't have Atley then no one would. It took two months to get Vivianna's signature on the divorce papers, which stated that she could have the house, both vehicles, and all of their personal belongings. Atley even went as far as to give her the IRA he had started in her name and half of what he had accumulated in savings. Anything to get out of the most unhealthy situation he had ever been in. A few days after his divorce was finalized, in the early hours of the morning, Atley received a call from his mother; Patrick had been in a fatal head on collision with a drunk driver. The next few weeks passed in a blur to Atley. Signing papers at work, signing papers at the funeral home, sitting for long periods of time in the complete silence in a dark room. At the age of twenty six, Atley had to wonder how his life had gotten to this point. Losing a lover, followed closely by losing a parent brought a pain to Atley's heart that felt crushing and suffocating. Losing his father left scars on his heart deeper than the ones Vivianna left on his arms with her nails. His company let him take a paid leave of absence and during his time away, they decided that it would be best for Atley, especially for his safety, if he were transferred to a different office. They debated their Los Angeles office, but ultimately decided on Seattle where he could settle into the city life quietly on the outskirts. Atley, once he returned to the office, knew that it was the right choice and wasted no time renting a UHaul. Little sister under him, Atley didn't hesitate to make the move to Seattle and he settled nicely into his new position at project manager. His nose was rubbed raw from the grindstone, one might say of his determination and thirst to prove himself. Coming from a lower middle class family, Atley wanted nothing more than to provide better for his future family and knew that advancements at work and wise financial decisions were the key to that. Now he was competing with educated men, men who were taught in a classroom how to read blueprints. Not men who learned how to do it in the cab of a filthy work truck. "There is something about you," the president of the entire corporation would say to Atley in the rare and few instances that they met. He had no idea. Over time, as he adapted to his new position, Atley began to smoke the competition. Work was a welcome distraction from the grief of losing his father... and also fear of his ex wife. Incidents were kept to a bare minimum, thankfully; Vivianna only found Atley once and after bloodying his little sister's nose in an attempt to get in his apartment, charges were filed and prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. She served her five months in a county jail in Nevada and it must have done the trick, because Atley never heard from her again. His baby sister's nose healed beautifully, he could barely see the new scars on his forearms when the scratches healed up. After moving to Park Slope, a new woman entered his life and two years later heartache burned in Atley's chest when she left for Los Angeles to follow her dream of singing. Leaving him with their three day old son and a hole in his chest. Nothing about Atley has changed. Except now he was a fan of craft beer and always keeps a chilled mug in the freezer.
▸birth date & age: february 2, 1982; 33 ▸hometown: reno, nevada ▸resides: park slope, brooklyn, nyc ▸occupation: senior project manager, SCC ▸relationship status: engaged; when she says baby ▸family: bradley patrick fowler, almost 2.	facts ▸ Rocky Balboa series, The Godfather trilogy, The Lion King, and Rio are his favorite movies, while his favorite television shows are American Dad and anything education about any animal that is even remotely exciting. ▸ Johnny Cash, Jason Aldean, Kenny Chesney, Taking Back Sunday, and Kanye West are his favorite musical artists, but his tastes stick pretty close to country with a few appearances by rap. ▸ Jasmine has never been very close to Atley, but after Patrick's death she has been making a very big effort to get to know him better. It's a constant work in progress. ▸ Lauren, his baby sister, has always and will always depend on Atley. With Jasmine being unreliable, Lauren's learned that her brother is nothing like their parents were and provides her with stability. ▸ Having dealth with losing his father and his wife all in one month, Atley takes people in emotional hardships very seriously because he knows just how dark the mind can get when suffering.	facts ▸ It's no secret that Atley has a decent singing voice. He's won numerous karaoke competitions and isn't afraid of singing in front of a crowd; however, he is certainly no Elton John. ▸ He is the type person to route for the villains in movies, even though he knows they won't win. Unless it's an animated movie, of course. ▸ A serial monogamist by nature, Atley takes relationships and commitment very seriously. He thrives in a relationship due to how unstable his parent's relationship was while he was growing up. ▸ It's not obvious that Atley has come a long way from digging ditches to managing multiple crews or that his financial situation is what it is currently. ▸ He has two pets. Rocky, a female red and blonde Australian Shepherd that's four months old, and Apollo, a male blue and black Australian Shepherd. Yes, he makes them play fight and narrates it proudly.