Matthew Samuel Granger
Nickname:
Matty
Age:
Twenty-Four-Years-Old
Likes:
Animals (especially dogs)
Pad Thai
Sweets
Cooking
Keeping Himself Busy
Reading
Taking Walks
Swimming
Dislikes:
Having Nothing to Do
Pity
Films with Tragic Endings
His Own Weakness
Confrontation
Mushrooms
Matthew is not someone who would normally be described as traditionally handsome. At 6’2 he’s on the tall side of things and due to his admittedly bad posture and thin, lanky frame he appears to be quite gangly and a little bit awkward. Back in his teenage years, he was actually quite healthy looking, but after his stint with drugs he lost a dramatic amount of weight in both fat and muscle mass. However, as he continues to attempt recovery, he’s slowly returning to a healthier look. For now, he’s still thin but hidden under slightly bag clothing, he’s all wiry muscle from his near constant motion. His dark reddish-brown hair, almost auburn, is always in a wild mess of curls only capable of being tamed when wet or when it’s cut short. He almost always has some scruff on his face, more from a lack of attention to it than an actual attempt at a fashion statement. However, when he does find the time and effort to get himself cleaned up, he looks years younger and healthier than his rather raggedy appearance originally lets on. His undoubtedly best features are his eyes, which are a vivid, almost sea-foam green color, something that most people don’t notice due to his general lack of eye contact.
His usual style lends more towards comfort than for fashion, sometimes dressing in cable-knit sweaters, plaid-button-ups, or a t-shirt with a jacket or cardigan. They tend to be rather ill-fitting, either remnants from his younger years before he lost so much weight or, as his psychologist likes to tell him, a desperate attempt to hide from the world and fly under the radar of most people. He almost always wears a simple, golden necklace with a simple charm on it, a gift from his deceased grandmother. He couldn’t bear to part with it, no matter how much he needed the money.
His skin is hardly flawless, scars from fights on his chest and back, a nasty scar on the left side of his left knee from a motorcycle accident when he was a teen. He is without puncture scars on his arms, mostly due to the fact that, when he was on drugs, his preferred method was inhalation because he disliked needles.
The best way to describe Matthew, at least according to other residents, is that there’s something off about him. Oh, it’s not necessarily about how he acts- he keeps his head down, mouth shut, and fixes whatever may be the problem in a faster than timely manner. It’s not what he says because he’s almost unerringly polite if a little short. It’s probably how he speaks, voice mumbled, refusing eye contact unless its absolutely demanded, and a nervousness in his tone as if he’s constantly afraid that he’ll accidentally offend the person he is speaking with.
Matthew is admittedly awkward and, really, always has been. He finds it difficult to speak to most people his age due to his own low self-esteem and nervousness around people. Then again, it’s also difficult for him to speak to people younger than him. And older than him. Just most people in general, really. He tends to be a quiet individual, speaking softly and using only the bare minimum unless people drag the words out of him. He’s most comfortable with the few that he trusts and around animals- they’re just so much easier to please and he doesn’t have to worry about them being disgusted by him.
That would probably be the biggest problem. Plagued by self-esteem issues since an early age, any sort of confidence was effectively destroyed when he decided to get off drugs. His mind no longer fogged by the familiar, fake euphoria he could see the way people looked at him; nurses, old friends, random people on the street. It was like he was scum, not even a non-entity, which he would have preferred. As he joined a support group and entered rehab, it got a bit better, but he’s still weary of people and their judgmental eyes.
Surprisingly, Matthew is actually quite responsible. If he’s given a task, you can bet that it will be finished in an orderly fashion, never once doing a shoddy job. If he sees something that needs doing, he’ll get it done. It may be an act of repentance on his part, a way of making up for his past indiscretions, but he’s honestly just trying to be a better person.
Another surprising quirk of Matthew’s is that he has a very caring heart, especially around animals. He honestly likes to take care of others, a personality quirk that leads him to taking care of at least one stray animal at any given time in his apartment. As difficult as it may be to get him to trust you, once he does you are guaranteed loyalty for life, something that can be a great thing or a deep flaw because once you have that power over him, it’s so much easier to damage him emotionally.
So, yes, he is awkward, a walking, talking bundle of anxiety and apologies wrapped up in the shell of a recovering drug addict. But looking beyond his quirky behavior and abrupt personality, you can find something worth keeping around.
Matthew grew up the single boy in a family of four sisters and a single mother, living in Mililani Town, a suburb near Honolulu. Before Matthew was born, his parents, Elizabeth "Lizzy" Granger and Carl Wrede, had separated under relatively cordial circumstances. Elizabeth then received a job offer in Honolulu and, being the headstrong woman that she was, packed up her child and, pregnancy be damned, moved her family to the suburb of Mililani. It was admittedly difficult for Matthew growing up with no real father figure and surrounded by four older sisters who alternated between treating him like a doll and as a pest. His mother was too busy with her new career to rein in her four unruly daughters. Overshadowed by his siblings, Matthew began to withdraw into himself, spending his time reading, studying, or hanging out with his few friends from school. His only real confidant was his grandmother who moved to Hawaii with them to be near her beloved grandchildren. She doted on Matthew constantly and gave him all the affection he felt that he needed.
Matthew was labeled a goodie-two-shoes, a title that he accepted with grace. That is, until he met Miranda Cassidy during his Sophomore year of high school. Miranda was a rebel, a self-righteous independent girl who seemed like she had the whole world in the palm of her hand; everything Matthew was not. He was head over heels before he properly knew what was happening, swept up in her confidence and exciting life. It was while dating her that he tried crack for the first time and it was fine. The high was nice, but he didn't have much of a desire to repeat it, only occasionally giving in to Miranda who introduced him to the underbelly of Honolulu. Still, he had control. He graduated high school with honors and was looking to submit applications to a number of colleges. That is until his grandmother passed away.
It was a crippling blow to the young man who felt like his life would never be whole again. There was a gaping hole in his heart that he was desperate to fill. He made the worst mistake of his life three days after his grandmother's funeral; at Miranda and her friends' insistence, he decided to drown his sorrows in drugs. What followed was a malstrom of drugs and bad decisions as he descended into the darkness and false euphoria offered by his poison of choice, whatever that may have been that week. He alienated himself from his family, old friends. College was no longer something he cared about, he just wanted more, more, more. It's all a haze now, a fog of insanity and temptation. He never hurt anyone, he was never arrested, but something did happen.
At the age of twenty, he overdosed, waking in the hospital. It was there that he went through the first pains of withdrawal, the worst feeling int he world, second only to when his grandmother passed. But with the enforced sobriety, he could see with clarity once more. He could see the shadow of his former self that he had become; a skeleton with no future, no life. It was then that he decided that he had to get sober.
The journey to end his addiction was not an easy one. He fell off the bandwagon several times, once brought on by the anniversary of his grandmother's death, another by a confrontation gone awry with his alienated family, and three other times brought on by intense stress. Still, there were more high points than low points following his decision to quit. He went to rehab, joined a support group, went to see a psychologist and met two of the most important people in his life.
The first was Simon Morstan, a college professor and an ex-addict himself. The neatly dressed gentleman with just a hint of a charming Southern accent supported Matthew throughout the years, a constant reassurance and someone to go to when he's feeling too stressed or as if he might fall off the wagon. The two are intimate friends, more of a bromance as Simon's eleven-year-old daughter insists. It was Simon who helped him start back on the track to college to pursue his life-long dream of being a veterinarian, helped him try to reconnect with his family, and who introduced him to the other great help in his life, Keilani Fergosa.
The old Hawaiian woman, who had been friends with Simon, had offered Matthew a deal; if he would work as her maintenance/go-to handy man and stay on the path of sobriety, she'd give him free room and board. Who was Matthew to refuse such a kind offer? He's been working and living at Kohana Creek since then, keeping busy just how he likes it. It's not an easy life with his work and college classes as well as his daily struggle with addiction and the odd looks he receives from other residents, but it's a good life. Well, at least for now.