Who is Thomas Stafford?
As far as I know, he currently lives in a small New York apartment. His present is a far cry from his past. He used to have a beach home in Hawaii. Once upon a time, he had a mansion in Beverly Hills. Not too long ago, he had an oversized townhome in New York. But for now he was cozy in a small apartment in the big city.
He was born in 1961. Rae Andrews, his mother, had been abandoned by Julian Stafford before Thomas was born. He may have grown up poor but he fought his way to the top of a small Cincinnati modeling agency. By the time he was sixteen, a bigger modeling agency had bought his contract and moved him out to the West Coast. By nineteen, he was the toast of the town and on the cover of every men’s fashion magazine. He quit the industry and retired at twenty five, moving into a luxury townhome in New York to live out the rest of his rather promiscuous life.
But he was also born in 1970. He grew up middle class in a happily modest little home. After moving away to the biggest state university, he developed a sexual curiosity for the same sex. He graduated with a perfect grade point average and a B.A. in English. He put his degree to good use as a lifestyle blogger. He had never found love but found monetary gain in The City of Angels. That huge empty mansion was the lone reminder of how pitiful his life had turned out.
If you asked his husband, he was born in 1972. He grew up with slightly abusive parents in a trailer park outside of a minor Midwestern metropolis. His lone childhood friend was Rusty, his playful collie. Shortly after marriage, Thomas lost his job and turned to escorting to keep him and his partner afloat. He lost his husband not long after. Now, his New York apartment was all he had to his name, and even that was getting too expensive.
That man in the mirror.
That is Thomas Stafford.
But I still do not know who he is.
As far as I know, he currently lives in a small New York apartment. His present is a far cry from his past. He used to have a beach home in Hawaii. Once upon a time, he had a mansion in Beverly Hills. Not too long ago, he had an oversized townhome in New York. But for now he was cozy in a small apartment in the big city.
He was born in 1961. Rae Andrews, his mother, had been abandoned by Julian Stafford before Thomas was born. He may have grown up poor but he fought his way to the top of a small Cincinnati modeling agency. By the time he was sixteen, a bigger modeling agency had bought his contract and moved him out to the West Coast. By nineteen, he was the toast of the town and on the cover of every men’s fashion magazine. He quit the industry and retired at twenty five, moving into a luxury townhome in New York to live out the rest of his rather promiscuous life.
But he was also born in 1970. He grew up middle class in a happily modest little home. After moving away to the biggest state university, he developed a sexual curiosity for the same sex. He graduated with a perfect grade point average and a B.A. in English. He put his degree to good use as a lifestyle blogger. He had never found love but found monetary gain in The City of Angels. That huge empty mansion was the lone reminder of how pitiful his life had turned out.
If you asked his husband, he was born in 1972. He grew up with slightly abusive parents in a trailer park outside of a minor Midwestern metropolis. His lone childhood friend was Rusty, his playful collie. Shortly after marriage, Thomas lost his job and turned to escorting to keep him and his partner afloat. He lost his husband not long after. Now, his New York apartment was all he had to his name, and even that was getting too expensive.
That man in the mirror.
That is Thomas Stafford.
But I still do not know who he is.