MEYERS, ADAM N.

[Deleted]

I like it. I'm not gonna crack
I miss you. I'm not gonna crack
I love you. I'm not gonna crack
I killed you. I'm not gonna crack

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FULL NAME: Adam Nathaniel Meyers
NICKNAMES: N/A
AGE: 23
BIRTHDAY: 08-02-1990
CURRENT CITY: London, England
HOMETOWN: Woodside, California
EDUCATION: The University of Cambridge
OCCUPATION: Project Assistant at Kirkland & Ellis LLP

FACEBOOK NAME: N/A
TWITTER HANDLE: AdamMeyers
INSTAGRAM: AdamMeyers
TUMBLR URL: N/A

COUNTOWN:

5 things I don't feel guilty about

- Setting fire to Ivy's Balmain dress, two years ago
- Laughing at all the wrong moments
- Feeling all things revenge
- Living how I want, when I want
- Coke, 50% of the time


4 things I feel guilty about

- Being drugged out during Sophie and Nicolas's graduation
- Unintentionally and intentionally hurting those I care about
- Giving up on Ophelia
- Coke, the other 50% of the time

3 people on my recently called list

- Violet M.
- Troy L.
- Dame Judi D.

2 realities I fear most

- Dying alone
- Possibly losing my sight

1 solace

- Cigarettes/or Coke


LOVE SEASONAL:

the best sex you've ever had |OR| your most cringe worthy sexual experience

When I was eighteen, I slept with an older woman. I think she was like thirty-nine or something. So you’d think she’d be boss at being some cougar by now, but the woman was horrendous. Hot, blonde, tight body, big tits, full lips, bright green eyes, but it was by far the dullest sexual encounter I ever experienced. She couldn’t even make licking my nose and the side of my face sexy, if that could ever fucking be!

the most desperate thing you've done for love

Made a January - December calendar for my then girlfriend Ophelia in 2011, of all our best moments, while trying to give it to her on Christmas Eve after singing off key beneath the guest room window at her grandparent’s estate.

one love or many loves?

I’ve made my mother a deal. When i’m 33, i’ll start thinking of possible commitment. 

an occasion where you've given/received flowers

When Ophelia finished rehab.



FAMILY
PARENTS: Reginald Meyers and Kathryn (nee Donaghue) Meyers
SIBLINGS: Ivy Meyers (26), Benjamin Meyers (24), Violet Meyers (20), Sophie and Nicolas Meyers (18)
OTHERS: Hamilton “Ham," a Stafforshire Bull Terrier


Basically, my immediate family goes like this:

Mom and dad love work, and haven’t got a clue how to raise six children, yet my father clearly couldn’t keep his dick in his pants and my mother sucks at knowing what contraceptives are, so now they are stuck with us. Ivy and Violet haven’t talked in two years, and no one really cares much to force them to make up yet. Ivy cares a lot about the twins, but mostly Sophie if it came down to it, and then Benjamin. I’m closest to Violet and the twins, though Benjamin recently reached out to me now that he’s living in Paris, France. Holidays are either shared via Skype or phone calls, though when we all do get together, our parents freak out and just throw a huge party, and surround themselves with clients, coworkers, friends and neighbors so they don’t have to converse and know about their children’s daily lives, aka our problems. Avoidance is a favorite and typical practice in the Meyers household.



LONG ANSWER:

1. A before and after shot. Compare your childhood to your current life, how did your past sculpt who you are?

I was raised by a nanny, and my uncle, and the former is really no surprise, but the latter is. My uncle was never very expressive when it came to emotion, and neither was my father, so it was easy to see how they were brothers. But somehow Uncle Gerard was always around more than my father and mother, even if he lived in Los Angeles. He was on the older side, and a Hollywood director, in love with the film noir style. He used to always telling us about the greats like Humphrey Bogart and Marlene Dietrich and people like that. Uncle Gerard never married, but he always had a lot of women around, and at special events it was always someone different. He never seemed too bothered by it, living the playboy lifestyle even into old age, at least at face value, except my sister Ivy told me once she heard him sobbing in the guest room, and muttering a woman’s name over and over, and how he loved and missed her, after her Sweet 16 party. Some lady named Francesca I guess. And till this day, I still don’t know who she is. But my uncle feeling that way about her, this mystery woman, stuck with me. And apart of me wants to find her one day, to put a face to the name. He never did get to see her again, and he never will. When I was fifteen, my uncle was murdered in his home in Beverly Hills, California. At 9:30 am on August 10th 2004, a 26-year old man broke in and hacked and decapitated him in his living room, with a few knives from the kitchen. The last time I ever heard his voice was on a recording of the 911 call he made before he died. The screams, the fighting for life… the gasping for help.. before another man’s voice took over the line, and calmly said all was fine.

Jax Weever. A 26-year old former medical student from Tampa, Florida. He killed my uncle and said he couldn’t remember why he did so, apologizing, saying he was hearing voices, the devil, on drugs, and pleaded insanity and all the other bullshit sociopaths like that do, just to get out of prison. It all just seemed unreal, like this was some sick joke played on our family. I remember not being allowed to attend the trial, and neither were any of my siblings. We all coped with it different, but I guess I was the one that acted out the most or whatever. I had a short temper, or i’d grow silent and scare the fuck out of people just by being dark, brooding and unfeeling. I wouldn’t say I had an emo or goth stage, I never liked labels, but I partied to the point where death could have enveloped me at any second of the day and night. And I wouldn’t have cared then. I used to stay up late, smoking crack or anything I could get my hands on whenever I had some painful memories about my uncle… Times like, when he taught me to ride a bike, and laughed his ass off when I was shit at it for so long, never missed one of my baseball games, and boxing matches, was the reason my film collection is so fucking large and my flat can’t even handle it, taught me to be a smooth talker with women and in general to get by, taught me craps and counting cards at twelve, but most of all, he taught me how to take care of myself, especially if the money ever runs out.

Nowadays i’m better. Or worse. You ask different people in my life, and they’ll all have different answers. Dying isn’t on the top of my list anymore, actually, I kind of fear it, though my drug habit hasn’t convinced some of this. Those that know anyway, I’ve got a habit of being good at hiding these things from the people I love the most. I eventually took most of my anger and put it towards a career in law. This clearly surprised many, who thought i’d either turn into a homeless person on dope or a criminal with severe gripes and hatred towards authority figures. Even though the law failed me with Weever, and i’ve got problems with authority, i’m still set on changing. If I could help put some psychotic bastards behind bars, or get sentenced to death and get what they deserve, i’ll do whatever I can. And learn all that I can, no matter who it is from or what I have to do. Crossing lines is all part of the journey. Basically, I turned my life around enough to get into The University of Cambridge after high school (and probably with a little help from family connections), and now at 23, I’m a Project Assistant at the law firm of Kirkland & Ellis, in London. England is my second home but really is turning into a first lately, though my mother has started to apparently worry about my well being here. But I don’t think I could ever move back to California. The demons there are not worth dealing with right now. And I rather like my life here.

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ALIAS: Liza
AGE: 23
PLAY-BY: Daniel B.
MEMBER GROUP: London
INSPIRATION: Everything Radioheadd