Written for the Flash Bingo challenge on the Basket of Books forum.
Raphael kept his eyes open to the vast world around him, decadent in its glittering mass of wonder and excitement. There was so much to do and see and experience. Life was an adventure that Raphael figured had to be experienced first hand, especially in the city of Los Angeles, where life exploded at the seams. No one seemed to sleep in Los Angeles, but unlike New York, there was a sense of seamless cohesion in how life in Los Angeles existed.
The best part of living here was that it seemed that LA lived on a creative plane of existence, isolated from stifling rules that dictated etiquette that held people back. People created music as if it was second nature, much like breathing. Painters had a wealth of landscapes in which to be inspired by, and there was an accepting community that would support and challenge you, if you cared to look thoroughly enough. There was a sense of calm in the excitement of LA's precarious, beautiful existence, Raphael noticed. Living close to a coastline had healing qualities about it: the clean, fresh smell of salt, the never-ending warmth of the golden sun shining to greet you, the murmuring chatter of seagulls and people conversing, and nature itself opening itself up for eternal usage
Despite that sense of calm, Raphael hated that people were uptight about how they were perceived. One's inner beauty would shine through, if you were able to trust in your inner light to gleam without shame. Raphael knew himself with enough confidence that many found later in life. He was nurtured by parents who encouraged emotional exploration. His phases weren't seen as immaturity, and his parents were delighted at every time he shed his skin to jump into another life, another mindset, another unique outlook. In fact, his parents often jumped through hoops to grow with him, solidifying their relationship. Raphael was an only child because his momma's body didn't cooperate with having another child, so he appreciated the genuine love of his parents.
Raphael knew his heritage: he was Chinese by way of Beijing, his almond eyes always aglitter with kindness and a fire that never went out and he was Jamaican by way of a rural town that Raphael had never heard of before Pops mentioned it with an off-handed reverence that indicated gratitude. He listened to stories of Momma, who clashed with her parents when they moved to America as a child; what Momma and his grandparents agreed upon was that they didn't want to assimilate to be seen as "acceptable" Americans.
Raphael was so moved by that and that depth made Raphael appreciate Momma so much more.
Pops wasn't as open about his past as Momma was; in fact, the few facts were gleaned from the implications of the morals of the made up stories he told Raphael as a child. The morals were specific and inspiring and empowering, all made to ensure that Raphael grew up kind and respectful and obedient and family oriented. Sometimes, Pops would get emotional at specific scenes and scenarios; Raphael learned that this was Pops' way of remembering the past, and keeping it close to his heart.
His rose colored glasses helped him realize the beauty in identity. Acceptance and understanding and knowledge were power. Power grew exponentially, hand in hand alongside confidence. That path led him to liberation: he may have only been sixteen, but he was ready for whatever obstacles
He was more than a broken accent and damaging stereotypes; his music reflected the masterful blend of two worlds. The way he saw LA, a melting pot of diversity that accepted
Raphael wanted nothing more than to take a part in the contradictory, complex tango of living in LA. He was a musician, and his creativity was directly related to his surroundings. He could hop on a bus, full of strange and memorable wonders where people were the purest, truest forms of themselves, trying to commute in the name of basic survival. This was a world that unconsciously condemned people without a car; because of the expansive nature of LA, public transport was a means to an end. That was how Raphael saw it, even though he loved every second. There was always room to watch the scenery pass him by; the unpredictable speed and movement fascinated him.
The world was a place that should've been experienced first hand. However, he knew that school was also important; formal education would give him a foundation to succeed in a typical way. Raphael craved eccentricity; he wanted to exist in a world where he stood out. He could never understand hiding his emotions behind aloof neutrality: everything should be experienced to its fullest.
He jumped at life without expectations.