Darius Lorenz (one of the NFL's most coveted running backs) and Kayleen Hurt (almost-as coveted Instagram model and full-time sadist) had the passionate puppy love of egotistical high school sweethearts and ruled over their small world of associates with sharp tongues and even sharper eyes. Darius was the big spoon and Kayleen was the knife, and these two loved life just as it was: with Darius on the field by day, Kayleen watching him move over the rim of her glass, and shooting the shit at night at the expense of all those around them. They were untouchable and awful in all the worst ways, in a way that others couldn't help but admire them for. They made dating a game only they could seem to win at and seemed to thrive off of making others feel inadequate in their presence.

Then Kayleen turned up pregnant and everything went to shit.

Four's a crowd

Griffon and James Lorenz-Hurt were born in the sticky pit of April and seemed just as happy with their situation as their parents were - which was not at all. Instead of cutting their losses and admitting they messed up Darius and Kayleen vowed to raise their twins the right way...for them, at least. Apparently that meant parading them around in adorable little outfits when the cameras were around then pawning them off on the nearest nanny the second one of them began to kick up a fuss. The twins grew up knowing their parents as intimate strangers who would occasionally dress them up like playthings, and knew their nannies as sources of comfort who were careful not get too close, never close enough to really care for them in any meaningful way. Without anybody else, the twins turned to each other. Griffon and James were each other's best friend at four when Griffon scraped his knees so bad they needed three stitches and James held his hand the entire time. They were each other's best friend at five when the boys would whisper-whisper about James behind his back, and Griffon came home with bruised knuckles. They were each other's best friend at six the first time they stepped onto a field and it felt like a key being turned in an ignition, an engine revving to life.

The Texas Sandstorms

With their father being who he was at the height of his career it was impossible for others not to project the same expectations onto his twin boys - boys who skipped the gangly stage boys often go through when they grow too quickly and instead were built solid and mean at the ripe age of six. At nine the boys were unleashed into the hellish world of Texas competitive youth football belonging to the highest bidding team - The Texas Sandstorms, who would go undefeated for the next three years.

When the boys were nine they fought with shoulder-length hair shoved into their helmets and late teeth punched out of their slanted smiles. At ten James suffered his first concussion and Griffon went on to lead their team to a state championship without him. At fourteen James was three concussions deep when Griffon suffered his first, and their father had the most successful year of his career. Gradually the twins went from shy kids to monsters to something uncontrollable, something mean and hungry in a way someone might describe an incoming storm or the deepest parts of the ocean.

At age thirteen James hit concussion number five and forgot the first three. At age sixteen James was forced to retire to save what memory he had left while Griffon moved leagues and mountains. At age sixteen Griffon's best friend was his coach and James' was his aunt Cindy who welcomed him with open arms when he was unceremoniously shipped to live with her in Big Rock.

Mr. Pantheron

A part of him died on that field, and what was left was a teenager left stranded with his mounting insecurities and memory issues in an unfamiliar town. For months James grieved the loss of his old self along with who he thought his twin brother was, whose alignment was somewhere in the cross section of slightly unhinged suburban wine mom and bad Hallmark movie villain. For months James was an overanxious wreck too nervous to go outside let alone see anybody other of his aunt Cindy until the day he met Angelino, a teenager who walked with the sort of authority usually reserved for army generals and soccer moms. The day they met something inside of James broke, and something else was fixed.

With Angelino's gentle help James never overcame or beat his anxiety, but learned to strap and control it enough to be manageable. Mr. Pantheron was born over cardboard pizza and too-sweet marinara sauce, created between laughs and smiles James thought he would never feel again. Angelino and his gang helped James create a plate of armor to protect himself against the world with, and Mr. Pantheron made internet history at two weeks old.

After years of suffocating in something intangible and undefinable James broke free from the crushing grips of his family by becoming somebody entirely new, untouched by them and their poison. James dyed his hair (the hair of his brother), ordered colored contacts by the dozen (to cover his father's eyes), smiled soft and gentle (the way he wished his mother had smiled), and for the first time in seventeen years was able to love what he saw in the mirror. Now, armed with his friends and helmet, he feels unstoppable.