I was warned about Tristan Cole. "Stay away from him," people said. "He's cruel." "He's cold." "He's damaged." It's easy to judge a man because of his past. To look at Tristan and see a monster. But I couldn't do that. I had to accept the wreckage that lived inside of him, because it also lived inside of me.
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There once was a boy, and I loved him. Logan Francis Silverstone and I were complete opposites. I danced, and he stood still. He was quiet while I ran my mouth. He struggled to find a smile, and I refused to frown. The night I saw the darkness that truly lived inside of him, I couldn't look away.
I've had many moments in my lifetime, moments that changed me, challenged me. Moments that scared me and engulfed me. However, the biggest ones - the most heartbreaking and breathtaking ones - all included him. I was 10 years old when I lost my voice. A piece of me was stolen away, and the only person who could truly hear my silence was Brooks Griffin. He was the light during my dark days, the promise of tomorrow, until tragedy found him. Tragedy that eventually drowned him in a sea of memories.