Kenneth Kowalski
Age: 23
Sexual Orientation: Queer
Gender: Male
Nickname(s): Ken, Kenny, Koala (Only his ex-best friend JJ called him that.)
Occupation: Assistant manager at Aero Cinema
Hobbies: Photography, sketching, sculpting, tennis.
Passion: Fashion, film (to a lesser extent).
Strengths: Charming, intelligent, witty, creative, well-spoken.
Weaknesses: Lacks motivation, melodramatic, clingy, prone to addiction.
Likes: Watching indie films, snow, Thai food, minimalism (as in art, architecture, and fashion), getting lost in big cities, Natural American Spirit cigarettes, indie music, Japanese candy, fashion shows (Damir Doma AW11 is his favorite show).
Dislikes: Being in love, having to make important decisions, being under pressure, psychiatrists, hot weather, bugs, sloppy artistic work (he's a perfectionist).
Personality: Although he is often perceived as pretentious, Kenneth is always in search of what he truly wants in his life. For that reason, he just tends to be picky about little things. His friends see him as laid-back and approachable, and he always has relationship advice for anyone with love troubles, in spite of his personal lack of relationship history. He reads people easily and fears attachment to anyone in particular. Those who get too close to him end up being pushed away. Kenneth is a self-described philosopher and spends a lot of his time alone, during which he produces deep, introspective art pieces in various mediums. Due to his history as an art school reject, he is very hesitant to show people his art projects, and prefers people to think of him as a master-of-none.
Appearance: Kenneth has distinctive Slavic and Nordic traits, due to his mother's Polish ancestry and his father's Swedish ancestry. He has pale skin with peach undertones and soft, medium blonde hair which he keeps at shoulder-length. His eyebrows are bushy and black but he lacks facial hair, instead opting for a smooth look. Kenneth has green eyes, which he often says are his best trait. There are several visible moles on his skin: two on his neck, one on his left bicep, and small and less noticeable one on his left earlobe. He has a faint scar on his right cheekbone from a bike accident. He is 6'2", 152lbs.
Other: Kenneth's portfolio was rejected from both FIT and SAIC. He attended Northwestern University for two years as a Psychology major but dropped out, as his dream was to attend FIT and live in New York. His biggest inspirations are Hussein Chalayan and Alexander McQueen. He hopes to one day join their ranks as art-fashion pioneers.
Fashion Style: New York street style. He thrifts most of his clothes, but buys name brands when he can afford to.
Background: Kenneth Kowalski was born and raised in Lincoln Park, Chicago to two university professors of psychology. From an early age, his parents raised him on strict curfews, high standards, and little room for negotiations. He was well-liked by his classmates throughout most of his academic career, and established his presence as a trendsetter and an academic idol at every school he attended. Kenneth and his long-time best friend Jared Jasnowski (or JJ) started experimenting sexually in their sophomore year of high school until JJ took interest in a girl a grade above them and spread rumors about Kenneth in order to defend his own sexuality. Prior to this, Kenneth had come to terms with the fact that he loved JJ, and had committed himself to asking him out. However, JJ stopped talking to him and Kenneth retreated into a state of isolation, pushing away people so he wouldn't get hurt again. He spent the rest of his high school years slowly fading into obscurity, but reading, studying, and writing in his spare time. He managed to graduate ranked sixth in his graduating class. Despite his parents' pressure to pursue a career in psychiatry, Kenneth remained determined to attend FIT and explore New York. He lost all his motivation when he was rejected, and allowed his parents to decide his future. His parents paid his way through two years of Northwestern University, where he reluctantly majored in psychology. During this time, he had been scouted by an independent modelling studio and attended weekly photoshoots which paid handsomely. He also worked at a local vegan cafe, where he earned enough money to fuel both his expensive tastes in clothes and a newly acquired nicotine addiction. After his two years at Northwestern University, he dropped out and used his remaining savings to buy a plane ticket to Cape Casanova, where he hoped to "find himself".
Although he refuses to admit it, he is still in love with JJ.
The janitor shot me a reproachful gaze as I tapped a cigarette on the back of my hand. "You can no smoke in here, Meester," she said, in a thick Spanish drawl. I suddenly snapped out of my trance and realized I was in the middle of the airport terminal. It was a force of habit to chew smokes every ten seconds, and since I was feeling so anxious tonight I was already halfway dead from lung cancer. I made a weak attempt at an apologetic smile, but I'm more than certain I just looked anemic and sad. The woman narrowed her drooping eyes at me and spritzed glass cleaner on an advertisement on the wall. I sank into the seat and waited through the most agonizing cover of Take the A Train I had ever heard. A woman's voice came on the loud speakers and announced the 11:25PM flight to JFK International Airport. I imagined myself strutting to the gate and announcing boisterously "I must have accidentally swapped tickets with the man I shared beer with at the Tavern! I have to be on Wall Street by five AM tomorrow!" I looked over my shoulder through the window and surveyed the dark runways dotted with moving lights of all different colors. All I could think about was how much happier I would be if I could stop time for a bit and smoke that goddamn cigarette.
See, the problem with being a romantic is you keep looking over your shoulder. If my life were a drama, I'd be hauling my carry-on into the plane all morose like a puppy about to be put down. And I'd look over my shoulder and see JJ sprinting down the cramped little gangway. "Ken," he'd say in his romantic gangster film voice, "oh Koala Bear, I was such an idiot. That Jess girl I've been going around with was only in it for my pension. Take me back, will ya? We can go to Cape Casanova and start a new life together. I need ya in my life, Kenny. Please?" And I'd get stars in my eyes and-
Well of course I'd punch him in his goddamn jaw, is what I'd do. Back in the real world, all I saw over my shoulder was planes taking off for Narita, London, Calcutta, even somewhere more exotic like Detroit. Planes full of people. And they were all taking off at three hundred miles an hour, as if all those people couldn't get away from me fast enough. I couldn't blame them.
The woman at my gate announced the boarding for my plane on the loudspeaker in that signature news anchor voice that I guess some people are just born with. "The 11:45 plane to Cape Casanova is now boarding. All passengers please return to the gate with boarding passes in hand." I looked around me at the handful of bleary-eyed misfits that reacted to the announcement. Most of them looked strung out on coke or possibly narcoleptic and dyspeptic and epileptic and absolutely none of them looked like anybody I'd want to share an apartment with. A man in a business suit with his face redder than baby Satan's smacked bottom approached me from behind. Waves of astringent alcohol smell washed over me. I did my best not to gag.
Throughout the whole six hour flight, I prayed to every god ever invented. I prayed to JJ.
