| Full name | Aiden Jasper Burton |
| Age & Birthday | 20 - 14.08 |
| Illnesses | ADHD, allergy to mushrooms and kiwis |
| Gender & Sexuality | Cis man, he/him - Bisexual |
| Family | William (father), Marie (mother), Charles (big brother), Liam (little brother), Julia (little sister) |
| Likes | Football (soccer), video games, modeling, makeup, fashion, instagram, men |
| Backstory | Born in the port city of Southampton, England, Aiden Jasper Burton was welcomed into a life of comfort and quiet privilege. The youngest son of a successful British entrepreneur and a graceful French artist, Aiden spent his earliest years nestled in a bilingual household where ambition met artistry. But soon after his birth, the family relocated to France, setting up a picturesque life on the outskirts of Paris—where cobblestone streets, French patisseries, and the hum of the Eiffel Tower became the backdrop of Aiden’s childhood. Though surrounded by luxury, Aiden’s world wasn’t always calm. Diagnosed with ADHD at a young age, he often struggled to fit into the structured rhythm of school life. But his parents—especially his mother—were patient, nurturing his boundless energy and imagination. While his older brother Charles (affectionately “Charlie”) thrived under traditional expectations, Aiden carved out his own chaotic, creative path. His younger siblings, Liam and Nicole, became his partners in crime, mischief-makers in a household where love was loud and unconditional. At fourteen, everything changed. His father’s expanding business brought the family back to England, uprooting Aiden from his French life and dropping him into a world that felt strangely foreign, despite being his birthplace. The transition wasn’t easy—he missed the cadence of French, the scent of the boulangerie, and PSG match nights with the neighbors—but it shaped him. It was around this time Aiden was scouted by a modeling agent. His sharp cheekbones, expressive eyes, and natural charisma captured the lens with magnetic ease. By sixteen, he was gracing magazine covers, juggling school with international shoots and walking for big names. His fame blossomed fast, and while some might’ve crumbled under the pressure, Aiden thrived. Modeling became a stage for self-expression, a space where his ADHD didn’t need to be hidden—it was a superpower. Off-camera, Aiden dove into skincare and makeup, developing a routine as elaborate and precise as any couture look. On-camera, he became a chameleon—effortlessly shifting from fierce and fierce to boyish and vulnerable. Still, he never lost touch with his roots. He kept his love for Paris Saint-Germain alive, catching every match he could. Football remained his grounding force—just like late-night gaming sessions, especially first-person shooters where strategy and chaos felt like home. Behind the flash of the camera and the buzz of fame, Aiden is fiercely loyal. He treats his friends like family, often saying they’re worth more than gold. Fame might come and go, but for Aiden, real connection is everything. Whether he’s on a red carpet, in a sweaty five-a-side match, or just at home with his skincare masks and controller, he’s always, unapologetically himself. |
| Full name | Akira Yoshino - 吉乃彰 |
| Age & Birthday | 19 - 16.11 |
| Illnesses | Autism, COPD, dyspraxia, depression, anxiety disorder, PTSD, insomnia |
| Gender & Sexuality | Trans man, he/they - Gay |
| Family | Takashi (father), Yumi (mother - deceased), Miyano (adopted little brother) |
| Likes | Hatsune Miku & Vocaloid, sleeping, maths & finances |
| Backstory | Akira Yoshino was born in Osaka, Japan, three weeks earlier than expected—a fragile beginning to a life filled with hardship. His arrival came at a devastating cost: his mother passed away during childbirth. From his first breath, Akira carried the weight of loss, something he wouldn't understand until much later. Diagnosed early on with autism, dyspraxia, and chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD), his childhood was defined not just by physical vulnerability, but also by navigating a world that often felt too loud, too fast, too unfamiliar. His father, Takashi, tried his best to keep their little family afloat, even as grief lingered like smoke in the corners of their home. When Akira was four, Takashi adopted Miyano—Akira’s younger brother—bringing a fragile kind of light into their lives. Akira, though quiet and emotionally guarded, grew fiercely protective of Miyano. The bond between them became one of the few steady things in Akira’s often unpredictable world. For a time, Akira had someone else—his best friend Yuka, a girl his age who understood him without needing words. Their friendship was a rare safe space. But when Yuka died by suicide at thirteen, something inside Akira broke. The trauma triggered a cascade of struggles: intense depression, severe anxiety, and eventually diagnoses of borderline personality disorder (BPD), PTSD, insomnia, and anorexia. His silence deepened. His world darkened. Not long after, Akira’s father moved the family to America, hoping for a fresh start—but for Akira, it was a nightmare. Bullied relentlessly for his differences, misunderstood, and alienated, his already fragile mental health suffered further. At fifteen, Akira came out as transgender. While his father accepted him, the world around him did not make it easy. Without access to top surgery, Akira still struggles with dysphoria, though he passes well enough to live mostly unbothered now. At seventeen, he made the move to England, seeking space and stability. It wasn’t perfect, but it was quieter. In the quiet, he began rebuilding—slowly, painfully, but steadily. Now nineteen, Akira lives a life that’s still far from easy, but more in his control. He studies finance with precision and passion, excelling in math where the rules make sense—unlike people. He dreams of becoming a professional accountant, drawn to the order, logic, and structure numbers provide. He rarely shows emotion and can come across as cold or distant, but this is his way of surviving. Beneath the surface, there's a deep well of thought, loyalty, and empathy—though only a few ever get close enough to see it. |
»»————- ⚜ ————-««
“Mr. Burton and Mr. Yoshino,” the teacher says.
My stomach drops. Burton? Aiden Jasper Burton? Teach was pairing up duos for a semester-long project for English Lit, and I somehow ended up with Aiden Burton. This day can’t get any worse. I’m paired up with Aiden Burton, the rich kid, the selfish and arrogant teenager, the football captain, the golden boy. On the social hierarchy of the school, he is at the top, and I am at the very bottom. He has never acknowledged me before, and now he’s forced to. I don’t want him to suffer like that.
“So, you’re… Yoshino…?” Aiden Burton asks sceptically. I turn my head to the side to look at him. Yes, we sit next to each other. He has his head resting on the palm of his hand with his elbow propped on the desk.
“... Yeah?” I say. I don’t really know how I should act around him
He looks at me for a long moment. “Cool.”
He continues, “So, er, I heard you’re like… a nerd or something, so can you do it all? I kinda have better things to do.”
Nerd. Ouch. Wait, who am I kidding? I am a nerd. A very cool nerd.
“Uh, no. You have to do something too. It’s a duo project for a reason.” I say. I’m not that good at voice tones, but I’m pretty sure I sounded pissed.
Burton narrows his eyes, like he’s judging me. He then sighs, “Fine.”
He looks reluctant to work with me. I don’t blame him. I’m really a pain to work with.
»»————- ⚜ ————-««
We end up in the library after our classes were done, much to both our reluctance. I mean, I could play so many songs on Project Sekai: Colorful Stage, but no. I have to be here, working with a stupid, arrogant and selfish rich boy. I think he feels the same about me.
There are papers and books neatly arranged on my side of the table, and Burton’s is just… one book.
One.
Book.
It’s giving me the ick.
The book is open, but it’s as clear as day that he’s on his phone under the table. How much I want to break that phone… But I don’t say anything because I’m a decent human being.
»»————- ⚜ ————-««
I scroll through my Insta feed with little interest in this so-called ‘duo project’. This Yoshino kid is as boring as they can get. Seriously, he doesn’t smile. None. Like he’s never had any fun in his life. I can kind of imagine that. Yoshino looks like that kind of person.
I scroll further and come across a funny video. I try my best not to laugh, but a snort still comes out. Stupid Aiden. I cover it up with a cough.
I notice that Yoshino gives me a glare. But not just a glare. The kind of glare that could cut through steel. And when I say that that’s scary, it’s scary, all right.
I kind of get interested in him.
I put my phone down on the table.
“Hey, mate, I’ve been wondering what your full name is. Everyone only says ‘Yoshino’, so tell me,” I place my signature smirk on my face.
Yoshino glares at me again. “Yoshino Akira.”
“...”
“...”
“But isn’t Yoshino your last name?”
“Yes.”
“Why did you say it first?”
“Why would I tell you, Burton?”
“Because it’s weird.”
“You’re weird.”
“What the hell, dude! Just tell me.”
Yoshino sighs deeply. “It’s easy. Yoshino Akira.”
I can tell he’s getting annoyed. Mission accomplished. I smirk wider.
“Fine, fine. We’ll have it your way.”
»»————- ⚜ ————-««
Okay, now it got awkwardly quiet again. Earlier, I had realised I had a pen in my blazer pocket, so I had taken it out. I’m now spinning it between my fingers with a smile. I lean back in my chair.
“So you’re just gonna do nothing?” I hear a sharp voice say. I turn my head to Yoshino.
He’s been staring at me.
I tilt my head just slightly and smirk, “Correct! I’m just here to supervise. You know, as adults should.”
Yoshino scowls. “That’s another way of saying you’re useless,” he snaps.
My eyes widen. Okay, wow. He got me.
“Nahhh. I’m just more of a hands-on kinda guy. I’m not really interested in, er… this.” I gesture vaguely to the neatly arranged books and papers by Yoshino.
Yoshino raises his eyebrows, glaring at me. “So you can’t read, then?” He asks with the tiniest hint of amusement.
HUH?
“What? Of course I can read! You make it sound like I can’t!”
“That’s my point.”
Okay, what the fuck. I can’t with this kid. He makes me want to jump off a bridge.
I sigh. “Let’s just… I dunno, split the work fairly.”
“So, 99% for me and 1% for you? Is that easier for you?” Yoshino retorts.
“No, you twat!” I say, running a hand through my hair, “50-50. I do half, you do half.”
The only thing Yoshino does is give me a short nod and return to his work. God, this kid is annoying.
»»————- ⚜ ————-««
This day was exhausting. The moment I get home from uni, I go to my room and flop face-first on my bed. Burton is annoying. He gives me the ick.
I sigh and sit up against the headboard. I grab my phone from my nightstand. I haven’t checked it the entire day. No new messages. Typical. I put my phone down again and look at it. It’s an old iPhone 8 I got for my 14th birthday. When I was 14, I used to throw my phone around a lot because of what had happened back then. Its screen is cracked, and it's pretty much okay to consider it abused, even though I barely do anything with it.
I think about Burton. He’s arrogant, selfish and incredibly annoying, but something about him makes me curious. I grab my phone again and unlock it. I open Instagram and search for Burton’s name. Of course, his account is the first result. I click on the account.
I scroll through his posts. There were a lot of posts. Why does he post so much?
His most recent one was 37 minutes ago. A selfie of him and his football team, sweating but smiling. Burton’s black hair is damp from sweat and sticks to his forehead, and his dark navy jersey sticks to his torso.
I look at the picture some more. I ignore his teammates. I zoom in on his face.
He…
He looks good.
Now that I think about it, he has always looked good. What am I talking about? Of course, he looks good, he’s a model. But still…
He’s an asshole, but he’s such a good-looking asshole.
I feel my face heat up—something that doesn’t happen often—and throw my phone next to me on my bed.
I groan and flop back down on my bed. I bury my head in my hands and try to calm down.
Not working.
I stand up and sit down immediately again because I see colours for just a moment. Oops. Forgot I have low iron. Anyway. I stand up properly and decide to help my dad with dinner to avoid thinking about Burton.
I am just cutting some onions—no, I don’t cry, I’m awesomely immune—when I realise I had liked Burton’s post.
Oh.
Oh.
My face must have made a weird face, ‘cuz my dad turns to look at me with this worried look.
“What’s wrong, Akira-kun?” He asks in Japanese.
“
Daijoubu
, Tou-san,” I say.
“Are you sure? You look a little pale…” Tou-san continues. “Do you have cramps? Does your throat hurt? Do I have to call your uni because boys are being stupid again?”
I love you, tou-san, but you don’t have to worry so much…
“No, really, I’m fine, don’t worry,” I say quickly.
“Hm, if you say so. But don’t hesitate to come to me, OK?”
“... Yeah, I will, thanks.”
I swear, tou-san worries too much sometimes. I feel bad for not telling him.
»»————- ⚜ ————-««
“Huh… Interesting,” I say as I pull my football jersey off in the locker room.
I had posted a picture of me and my football team like, 30-ish minutes ago. I’m scrolling through my notifications, but one stood out.
kirayoshino has liked your post.
So Yoshino has Insta. I thought that kid didn’t have
any
social media app. He’s not so boring after all.
“What’s interesting?” Lucas Carter asks. Lucas is my friend—best friend, mind you. He’s basically the only one who is really my friend and not some fake ass guy who pretends to like me. He’s also on the football team.
“You know how I told you that my class has a semester-long project?” I ask.
“Yeah?”
“Well, I’m with this kid, I’m pretty sure he’s the youngest of my class, and he just liked my Insta post.”
“That guy you sit next to? Why would he like your post? I’ve never seen him with a phone before.”
“Exactly! Turns out he does have one,” I say.
“Crazy,” Lucas mutters with a smirk.
»»————- ⚜ ————-««
After getting dressed, Lucas and I go to my car and I drive us to my house. We planned to do homework. But it's a little hard since we don’t have the same major.
Once we’re at my house, we raid the kitchen before we go to my room. We play some video games and try to do each other’s homework, but I’m not good at computers, and Lucas isn’t good at literature. Eventually, Lucas went home because he was tired.
I lay on my bed with Manon, my golden retriever, at my feet. I kinda want to vape, but I don’t want to give Manon lung problems. Now that I think about it, I should buy a new one; my current vape is almost out of puffs.
I sit up and pet Manon. She looks up and nuzzles her head into my hand.
“C’mon, girl, I need some space. Go bother Charlie or Liam, okay?” I say.
Manon grumbles, gives my hand a last nudge before trotting off to somewhere else.
Yay. Now I can vape.
I grab my mango-scented vape from the bedside drawer and take a drag before slowly exhaling the smoke. I love mango. Maman better not catch me vaping indoors or else I’m cooked.
I have just taken my ninth puff when I hear footsteps in the hallway. Those sound awfully a lot like Maman’s, ‘cuz she always wears heels. I fumble with the vape, but still take one last drag before I put it under my pillow.
The door opens, and Maman steps in, looking around my room before fixing her eyes on me.
“Aiden, did you vape indoors?” She asks with her French accent.
“No, Maman, I didn’t,” I say with my most innocent face and voice.
“I smell the scent, Aiden.”
“I didn’t vape!”
“You did.”
“If I did, where is the vape then?”
“Under your pillow, where you always hide it.”
WTF. She caught me again. I groan and grab the vape from under my pillow, mortified, then hand it to her.
“I don’t want to see you vaping indoors again.”
“But Dad smokes, why is vaping wrong?”
“Your Dad can’t be saved anymore, he damaged his lungs too much.” She says before turning her back to me and leaving with my vape in her hand.
I snicker. Sometimes I wonder how Maman and Dad are still together.
»»————- ⚜ ————-««
It’s just another dull grey afternoon. Typical British weather. The clouds are hanging low, and the streetlamps flicker on too early. I’m walking with my little brother, Miyano, along the sidewalk. I could’ve worked on the project and done more research, but I’m a good big brother.
Miyano’s chatting about his school and the drama that’s happening there. He’s fifteen, so we don’t go to the same school. That’s until I see someone standing near a fence, smoking something. Don’t tell me that’s…
The person takes a drag of the vape he was smoking as he looks our way. Then he freezes and looks away. Stupid Burton…
He glances this way again. I tilt my head. He gives a quick, stiff nod. I narrow my eyes. He gives me the ‘what did I do?’ look.
“Hey, isn’t that your project partner for English Lit?” Miyano asks, looking up at me.
“Yeah, I guess…” I answer, shrugging.
Burton gives a thumbs-up. Why does he do that? He’s already embarrassing enough. I give him one last, slow blink of judgment before I turn back to Miyano.
“Erm, are you okay, mister?” Miyano asks Burton innocently. Pfft, kid does it just to seem oblivious. Trust me, he’s not.
That’s when Burton explodes into a coughing fit, bending over and wheezing. The smoke came out of his mouth in short, unstoppable puffs.
I look at him, deadpan.
“You’re a dumbass, Burton.”
Burton looks up at me like a big, guilty golden retriever, eyes teary and voice raspy. “S-sorry, I just don’t wanna vape around a kid, you know!”
Miyano snorts. “That’s such a you-problem.”
“Well, sorry for being respectful!”
I stared at Burton for a long moment, eyes narrowed. Then, unexpectedly, I let out the tiniest sound. Like a laugh, but short, sharp, and almost a breath. It makes me even surprised.
Luckily, no one notices.
Miyano, now trying to hold in his laughter of seeing dying-of-vape-smoke Burton, whispered to me in Japanese, “He’s so weird.”
I smirked faintly. “
Un
, he is.”
I turn to Burton and give him a scolding look. “Finish the part I mailed you by the end of the week, please.”
Burton raises his hands. That was meant sarcastically, right? “Of course, promise. I won’t die because of vapes.”
I give a short nod and gesture for Miyano to follow me again. We continue walking, but I can feel Burton’s gaze on me. He’s creepy and vape addicted, but… I guess, okay to deal with.
I hope his lungs are dead by the time he’s thirty.