🕷️ Patrick Pearson was born to Robert and Margaret Pearson, on a hot summer’s day in New York City. The couple, who had made their home in Queens, were both involved in Law Enforcement in some capacity - his dad at the time a cop with a few years in the NYPD under his belt, his mother a medical examiner. They met on the job, and while it was love at first sight for his father, his mother was a different story. Being around cops (and being hit on cops) had left a sour taste in her mouth, and she thought Robert would be no different - but he was patient rather than persistent, intent on making her see that he was worth her time, and it worked. One night at a colleague retirement party, he made a move and was pleasantly surprised that she accepted it. They were together ever since.

🕷️Both very career orientated, kids weren’t really on their mind. The enjoyed their life together, enjoyed moving up in their respective careers and liked feeling they were doing good and making a difference in the world. The two of them worked, and if it wasn’t broke, why would they try and add something else that they didn’t really know if they wanted to their dynamic? The decision was made for them during a passionate night while on vacation, 5 years into their marriage, when the drinks were flowing and caution wasn’t thrown to the wind - more like completely forgotten about. When they found out they were pregnant, there was an initial reluctance to such a surprising change, but by the time Peter was born in early august, they welcomed their son with more love than they knew what to do with.

🕷️Growing up, Patrick was a handsome child. It helped that both his parents happen to be attractive and blessed their son with good genes. But even with though he had “the looks”, he was a rather awkward child. He had friends, sure, but he preferred the company of his parents, of his books, his video games and his other interests. He never felt he was lacking ( except maybe when it came to girls) and his parent’s never worried about him. They knew he was a great kid, a little quiet maybe, but nothing they had to be concerned over. He wasn’t bullied, but kids were always a little crueler than most, and he was aware of his awkwardness, but it never really bothered him until his teenage years.

🕷️Because of his parents, Patrick always assumed he would eventually be in the police in some capacity. The idea of applying for an officer position came up several times as he began high school, to work his way up and be a detective just like his father. But that didn’t seem like the right direction for Patrick. He always had a love of science - always excelling in the area in his studies - and took more interesting in the forensic aspect of the field, even showing curiosity towards doing something like his mother was. But he had time to think about the direction his life would take. He wasn’t worried about it yet.

🕷️ While Queens, and by extension NYC, was always his home, he had found a second home in Boston where a lot of his extended family had taken up residence. Summers in Boston, or at the Cape were the norm for their family, and it was some of the best memories that he had growing up. The highlights of them were always focused on his Uncle Bruce and Aunt Mary. While they were more like his great-uncle and aunt, they were the only grandparent figures he ever knew, and that was okay. Staying with them over holiday’s and vacations was always a treat and was part of the reason that Patrick had decided to apply to schools specifically in Boston for the rest of his collegiate career.

🕷️ The summer between his junior and senior year of college, it was business as usual for the Pearson family. Patrick was going to spend a few weeks with his Aunt and Uncle while his parent’s finished up some work and went on their own private vacation before joining their son in Boston for the remainder of the holiday. Patrick was looking forward to enjoying time with his family, the friends he had made in Boston, and especially his aunt and uncle. While he did sense some stress coming from both his parents - and to be frank, had noticed it for the last few weeks - he assumed it was worrying about a particularly case, or going away alone, or whatever parents whispered about when their children weren’t paying attention. They assured him that they were fine, and he shouldn’t worry and to enjoy his time away before his last year before college. The last time he saw his parent’s they hugged him a little tighter than usual - and Patrick could swear that they looked at him like it was the last time they would see him.

🕷️ It was two weeks into his time in Boston, when the call came in. Patrick had no idea what was said on the other line, but the look on his uncle’s face was enough for him to know that something was terribly wrong. There was an accident. No one survived. His parent’s who were off on their own vacation, or so he had thought, had died. And his world came crashing down around him. Both he, and his aunt and uncle were devastated. The time that was supposed to be spent enjoying themselves had turned to tragedy and within hours of the phone call, they were on their way back to New York to go through the troubling process of burying a loved one.

🕷️ Patrick doesn’t remember much of the funeral, or that summer in general. He remembered decisions being made about what to do with their things, and their apartment, and where Patrick would stay and go to school. He wouldn’t turn 18 until the next August, and he remembered, regretfully, a lot of arguing about being able to finish his last year in the city that his parent’s raised him, and to have to start over again in his last year would be unfair. They agreed, but it was still a precarious situation that cause a lot of sleepless nights. His father’s long time partner while being a detective, offered to take Patrick in for the school year so that he would be able to finish his final year with some sort of normalcy. While his aunt and uncle were skeptical at first, they agreed and let Patrick finish out his last year of high school in the city he knew best.

🕷️Patrick always felt he had a clear vision of what he wanted to do with his life, to follow in his parent’s footsteps, but with them gone, he struggled with his identity. He did well his final year, managed to graduate near the top of his class, but now with college looming in front of him, he was having doubts about what he wanted to do. He still went to college, even as far as to get his masters in Biomedical Forensic Science. Upon graduating however, he felt lost. He didn’t know if he wanted to jump right into following in his families footsteps or try and find his own course. His aunt and uncle were both extremely understanding individuals and while they hoped he would follow in his parent’s footsteps (as well as his uncle’s) they understood the feeling of being lost and wanting to find your own way.

🕷️ He did a lot of odd jobs for awhile. Worked retail, wrote short stories and articles, and somehow found his way into photography. He had a love of photography all his life, always had a camera in hand, or if not a legit camera then the one on his phone. It was one of the few things he felt was all his and was passionate about and decided to take on a few jobs where his camera was involved. He enjoyed a lot of his work, and had grown to be very proud of it - but it still wasn’t bringing in a lot of money. And he was tired of living with his Uncle and Aunt, despite their claims that he was always welcome in their home.

🕷️ He fell into sex work on complete accident. He always found himself a little awkward with females he liked, not that he didn’t have a few relationships and flings of his own, but nothing ever really stuck. It started when speaking to a client of his own - a woman looking for headshots and amateur modeling photos for herself - and he had a conversation about how photography wasn’t bringing in as much money as he would have liked to pursue more of the photography passion. She suggested being a boyfriend for hire and put him in touch her boss. While the first few dates were a little strange, he found that it was very easy to be charming around women as long as he considered it totally professional. Which was easy to do because when it came down to it, it was a job he was being paid for. The escorting came after a few months working on a strictly platonic basis and he would be a liar if he said he didn’t enjoy some of it. And it helped him earn enough money to pursue his other passions and habits and most importantly - move into his own space.