stability wasn't a word vander vaughn dragomir learned until much later in life. his mother was a young, beautiful, free-spirited romanian who had escaped her tightly structured family to, quite literally, join the circus. she loved to travel and sing and dance and offered to play up all the terrible stereotypes of her culture to sell fake fortunes to gullible tourists. she had many loves, but the one she loved the most was the one she hardly ever spoke of. while traveling the european country-side, lavinia dragomir met a young archaeologist and historian. he loved to compare her beauty to all the greats of the world. helen of troy, mona lisa, xi shi, lavinia trumped them all in his mind. their affair was only as long as the circus was in town, but they made their own mark on history in the form of a baby boy. lavinia named him vander, after the word "wander" because she had been doing just that her whole life.

the circus was no place for a child, however. vander's wide-eyed curiosity and joy for all the colorful theatrics was cute at first, but eventually it became clear, by the time he could walk into all sorts of dangers, that he needed a more stable life. maybe one that didn't involve lions and fiery hoops. lavinia eventually moved in with an old retired circus trapeze artist, who watched vander every night as lavinia went out to make money in ways her child was never meant to know about. after his first few years of schooling, it became clear that vander was a smart boy. too smart for his own good, most of the time. seeking a more challenging education for her son, lavinia moved them to england with the promise of higher education. there, her circus connections again gave them a roof over their head and extra hands to help out.

growing up, vander was rarely alone. his mother's many friends were always present, as she was most comfortable in crowds. it was always eclectic types too, with big personalities or big talents, brains, wallets, etc. vander loved his mother very much, even if she could be a tad flaky and constantly needed affirmation. mostly, he loved how she told stories. she would regale vander with stories of the tribe she was born into, and the tribe she found. she'd even make up tales, about a traveling bard and a witch who met and fell in love over and over again over many lifetimes. the day she died in a house fire was a day vander has almost entirely blocked from his memory. he can't recall what caused the fire, where he was at the time, nor why his mother hadn't escaped the blaze in time. later, he'd learn about repressed traumas. but first, he had to go to school to study how the mind worked.

since vander was seventeen, and technically a man by the time his mother died, he was able to take care of himself. he stayed with a few of his mother's closest friends those first couple months, but he didn't require a guardian anymore. when he finished with school, he was free to make his own choices. and he chose to put off college and grieve his own way: by traveling the world, retracing his mother's steps across the many countries he'd told him tales about. taking a gap year to backpack and see the world was one of the best decisions vander ever made. it was an eye-opening journey that taught him a lot about people, the planet, and how everything is connected. he especially enjoyed his time with a group of tibetan monks.

getting into oxford was easy. it was staying put that was most difficult for vander. his gypsy blood wanted him to constantly move. and, honestly, he got bored fairly easily. even at an ivy league school, it seemed. he was smarter than some of his professors, his roommate was frustrating and frustratingly brilliant, and there never seemed to be a person who could hold his interest romantically. as soon as he graduated, he jumped at his next great adventure, landing across the pond at stanford school of medicine in california. it was there that he finally met his equal, a beautiful young woman named adaline newman. she worked at the school library and had a quiet sort of brilliance that was never boastful, unlike vander's. he would spend the next decade wooing her. they waited to be together until they had both finished school and achieved their ideal careers. they lived together for two years, just to make sure they would work, before vander got down on one knee and committed to spending the rest of his life with her.

about two months ago, adaline was driving home from a particularly long shift at work and was hit by a drunk driver at three in the morning, two miles from their house. she died instantly. vander was on a book tour at the time, letting the praise of strangers feed his ever-growing ego. he'd recently discovered a strange, growing phenomenon in the city while working with patients at his private practice. one that involved regular people, most with little to no history of mental illness, suddenly becoming convinced they were real-life superheroes. like the ones in comic books and big-budget action films. it had been so fascinating that all of vander's attention had been consumed by his research. his relationship with adaline had suffered as a result, compounded by her own poor choices. so while the news of her death had devastated him, it was the aftermath, the pretending and the lying to keep up the false ideal of perfection everyone had of adaline and their relationship, that has been the really painful part. vander is hoping he can be honest soon. and maybe get back to some of that stability he worked hard to make for himself.