guidelines

EXTREMELY IMPORTANT INFORMATION

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quentin's story is based heavily on an old character of mine some of you may recall from 2019 at the url @sinsabsolved. his name was elias crane. some of the basic background story for quen will feature altered events from said character. this is pretty much an infusion of a new 80s horror original character and that muse. just a heads up to avoid confusion or accusation of stealing the backstory of my own character. this particular character is also affiliated with alyssa's video vixen named angel and she may be referenced from time to time. you can find her here, @haedbangers.another huge bit of information that is absolutely essential to know is that quen's canon timeline is in 1994 and therefore i will automatically assume any thread started is set there unless we talk prior. i'm always willing to make aus and other verses to make it more accessible for your muse and him to interact though! he does have a modern timeline. i just prefer not to compromise his story too much for the sake of modernity.if you feel that any of the things i list below as triggers may harm your own mental health with triggering, i encourage you to please not read it. this blog is not for you. this blog will never graphically write anything triggering farther than maybe drinking / abusing prescription drugs.
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SOME PRE–READING NOTES

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when this is finished, i can guarantee it will be a long read and i don't expect everyone to memorize it by any means or even read it in full right away. after all, it's 6,030 words as of 05/16/2022. however, i do expect that you take the time to want to learn his story if you have plans to interact. i have put a lot of time and work into him, he's more than just a hot dude for your muse to ogle. please be respectful of that. and i'm always willing to answer questions and give you any information, but please make the effort and meet me halfway. POTENTIAL TRIGGERS MENTIONED :  alcohol abuse, auto accidents, child abuse, death, domestic abuse, gore, murder, parental neglect, suicide.
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 i. our story begins  the year is 1942 and at the young age of twenty–six, franklin delacroix has just become the most famed whiskey proprietor in the south. birmingham, alabama is where he calls home. being the youngest son of his parents, he couldn't join the army to fight in the war, and thus he poured his time into perfecting the liquor that would rise him to fame and eventually ruin his life in the process. he's quite a playboy, he treats women as objects he can do what he wishes with, with no repercussions. what's that phrase again? boys will be boys? even in present day boys aren't held accountable for their actions, therefore in 1942—— boys were given passes. they screwed with your head to make you feel honored to even have their attention.one margaret byrd found this out eight years later when the thirty four year–old began courting her. he was unfaithful, he made her feel minuscule, he shot verbal venom, and he even connected skin to skin––– all with harmful and controlling intent. though, with each tear shed, there was a convincing apology. a promise to never hurt her again. nothing but empty promises. but he was wealthy, he was successful, he was everything her father ever wanted her to marry into. this meant that in 1952, when franklin proposed, acceptance was blurted before her logic could chime in. this is a horrible idea, it would've told her. she should've listened. ii. in his father's eyes he's a pair of dice  they married in the spring of 1953. for a while, it appeared as though things could smooth over. perhaps franklin was maturing, growing out of whatever frustrations left her hurt so often. margaret would find the next three and a half years would be riddled with the same old song and dance. but this time it was that despite trying for so little period of time, he blamed her as a failure to produce them a son to one day inherit his company—— that had only grown larger and larger since their early days together. thankfully, it wasn't meant to be a permanent dynamic. on october 13th, 1954 , margaret delacroix gave birth to a healthy baby boy, whom she named elias james. it was love at first sight and she vowed to never let him feel the pain she felt at the hand of his father.in 1957, elias was no longer an only child, as she gave birth again to a son named theodore on july 23rd. elias was three years–old at the time, but was very excited and enthused to have a baby brother. and finally on november 11th, 1961 , margaret delivered their final child, matthias. at this point, elias was six years–old. he'd begun to show his personality, what he liked, what he was interested in, and his father wasn't happy to say the least. he was a soft, sensitive soul who spent most days drawing or coloring. he showed an interest in music and a disinterest in sports or activities that were seen as masculine. his oldest son was a failure in franklin's eyes. elias was just a child, he never gave a reason to endure what he could come to endure in the rest of his childhood. iii. and he won't be number one  as his brothers grew older, the attention that elias received from his father lessened. rather than associate with his son whom he insisted on calling a sissy, franklin dedicated his time at home to raising teddy and matty into his perfect vision. elias had never felt loved by his father, but the unconditional love that poured into him from his mother made days that much easier. franklin's parents were always kind to him as well. they disapproved of their son's actions, but could never get through to him. the eldest delecroix son affectionately referred to them as nan and pop. time he was able to spend with either them or his mother was always cherished. it took him a bit to accept it , but soon enough it was apparent that he would never be good enough in his father's eyes. iv. distractions from an ugly reality  when elias was twelve years–old, pop gifted him a guitar for christmas, due to his love of music. when tensions rose and all he wanted to do was escape, he would retreat to his room and practice. if he could hear his parents arguing, if he could hear the pain being inflicted on his mother, the young man would strum away. it was a much–needed escape from his horror–filled reality. oddly enough , his second love became horror films after watching alfred hitchcock's psycho with his nan, who also found a bit of fun in being scared. after that, the grandmother and grandson went to see the exorcist when it came to theaters in 1973, absolutely fascinated with the outrageous reviews and horrifying tales from the viewings. before the exorcist came dario argento's giallo films, the bird with the crystal plumage (1970), the cat o' nine tails (1971), and four flies on grey velvet (1971). unbeknownst to him at the time, this would be the beginning roots for the slasher genre he would come to be an expert in.elias became well–known all throughout high school as the weird kid who knew far too much about things that went bump in the night, the terrors of the imagination, horrors on the silver screen, and crimes that took place in reality. what could he say? it all fascinated him more than it should have, but he enjoyed it and his nan encouraged his curiosities. other people's opinions didn't have much effect on him anymore. after all, no one could make him feel smaller than his father did regularly. v. teenage angst with a body count  during his junior year of high school, rather than begin the process of teaching elias the ins and outs of his extremely successful whiskey brand, franklin skipped directly over the oldest in favor of the next best, who didn't bring him shame. to say that he was heartbroken would be a bit much, but watching his father not even consider him stung. it wasn't something elias would've wanted to do with his life anyway, but that wasn't the point. principle alone, it was just one more indication he would never be enough.that rang true in how ragged franklin ran teddy. during elias's senior year, the 19 year–old watched his younger brother struggle to meet their father's expectations. teddy was only 16, he was just a boy. the demanding standards that franklin wouldn't accept less than had taken a huge toll on the boy. sitting in elias's room one night, the two joked around as they usually did. elias always felt more comfortable and that he was closer to teddy than matty. matty was the exact image their father wanted. that included shunning elias over nothing. but with a mere few words, the merry time that he was having with teddy went terribly wrong.“it must feel pretty good to know you're the one dad trusts to take over the company one day, huh?” it was harmless, partially in envy but the tone indicated no bitterness, only curiosity. but it was met by a venomous snap. teddy ripped him stem to stern on how it must be so nice to not have to live up to their father's expectations. how elias got away easy, he wasn't being pressured and scolded over everything regarding delacroix whiskey. how elias had no right to even think something like that. the older brother attempted to explain he meant no harm, but the damage was already done.elias still remembers the police coming to their door in the middle of the night. he remembers the wail his mother sounded when told theodore was found dead after getting into an accident. an accident, they said. that was bullshit. the vehicle was littered with delacroix whiskey bottles. he wrapped his car around a tree because it was too hard to be the perfect son. and elias couldn't help but blame himself. if i'd just kept my mouth shut, he often wondered. but it wasn't even a month after teddy's funeral that franklin began grooming him in the same way he'd done to teddy. that plan was halted immediately. elias wouldn't let him act as though he had nothing to do with teddy's death. that was blood on franklin's hands, no one else’s. vi. take the credit and your fucking bow  he remembered how the rain poured down ferociously on that chilly spring night in 1973. elias had just graduated high school and his father called on him to sit and talk about the future. franklin explained how elias would be the one to run the company when a day came that he was too old to carry on or no longer around. it was appalling to the eldest son. theodore hadn't been gone a month and yet it was like he never even existed. protest was immediately made. elias was livid and rightfully so. he began to berate his father, asking him how he could be so cold. telling him the truth in that his constant need for perfection had led to teddy's suicide. that he wouldn't be the next victim. most importantly, the truth he'd known since a young age—— that franklin delacroix was the world's worst father.but that sparked a physical altercation. franklin threw a punch that connected with and split elias's lip. elias refused to fight back. his father grabbed a bottle of whiskey nearby and smashed it over his son's head. though, it immediately left a crimson trail just under elias's left eye. adrenaline pumping, all elias could think to do was flee. he packed up some clothes, his guitar, and a necklace of teddy's that he kept before fleeing to nan and pop's house. they promised to hide him and make sure he was protected long enough to make some money and leave alabama. and that's exactly what he did.three days after the incident with his father, his left eye lost sight. the pain he was in was excruciating. elias attempted to just brush it off, but his grandparents wouldn't have it. upon taking him to the hospital, they learned a small shard of glass from the whiskey bottle broke against his face embedded itself in his eye. unfortunately due to how long the foreign object was lodged in his eye, he was given a prognosis of permanent vision loss. the only thing he sees from the left eye is light and shadows. i hope you're fucking proud of yourself, dad. the sentence repeated over and over in his head while he struggled to come to terms with it. vii. i shouldn't think about the past  thankfully, despite taking a of time to adjust to a new perspective on life like this, he stayed with nan and pop while getting a full–time job at an auto repair shop a couple of towns over. he legally changed his name to quentin theodore crane so as to never have to be tied to his father, nor the damn liquor that took so much from him. pop was able to find a beat up old pick–up truck for quentin to use to travel back and forth without his father suspecting anything. for the next three years, until 1976, quen worked hard as a mechanic to save up the money he needed to travel across the country. when the day came to leave his beloved grandparents, he asked only one thing : they make sure his mother is always taken care of. they obliged and wished him farewell. the figurative reset button was pressed and he was finally free. it felt fantastic.sure, he missed his mother. god, how he missed her. quite often as he drove the truck toward california, he wondered if she was okay. sometimes he even thought that maybe he should've offered to take her away from the tumultuous situation. but elias delacroix is dead, isn't he? if it hadn't been for that, his mother's gentle heart that resided within him would've offered her a way out. but he knew dwelling on the past and what laid behind him was counterproductive to this entire uprooting. he couldn't and he wouldn't. viii. i'll be starting a new life on my own  after reaching his destination of los angeles, california in 1976, quen was able to find a small apartment he liked and a nearby auto repair shop to work as a mechanic once more until he figured out where his new life was taking him next. it was three more years he worked as a mechanic and made connections, earned a positive reputation as a worker and a person. but, in 1979, the arrival of the new decade brought another opportunity. a brand–new video rental store not far from his residence prompted the 25 year–old to inquire about a job. the only genre of vhs the store carried was, luckily for him, horror. there was no question in choosing quentin to work there. if his hard–working job history wasn't enough reason to hire him, the encyclopedia of horror he could spew at any given moment was. ix. everyday he's made it on his own  slashback video had given the southern–born man a way to socialize with another side of the community and meet some new folks who shared similar interests. or at least he thought it would. most of the time guys came in with their girls to rent videos and shove their pda in his face, to which he felt his stomach churn over. that, or he would overshare with anyone who seemed intrigued by the genre and make a fool of himself. it turns out some things never change. he needed something to immerse himself into and keep him occupied. then it dawned on him—— he could enroll in college.during the summer of 1980, quentin enrolled in the psychology program at california state university. the workings of the human mind was just as intriguing to him as the methods behind madness in horror films and true crime cases he'd heard of and looked into. it seemed like an obvious choice. so, when he wasn't working at slashback, quen would pour himself into his studies. it passed time and thinking about doing well academically, stopped him from caring about what others thought of him.through his nonchalance regarding what others thought, quen did earn a few good friends. the first was another guy in his english course, vince "vinny" nichols, an english major who also had a taste for horror. he was a funny guy who didn't have a filter nor a care to find one. the two became very close with vinny introducing quen to his own circle of friends. within said circle was noah holland, a more popular pre–law student who mostly only hung out with them because of his twin sister, nora holland. she was in the nursing program and radiated sunshine wherever she went. lastly, wesley "wes" adams, a sporty type with zero sense of humor on a basket ball scholarship with a business major. but then she showed up. what a plot twist she was.

 x. everyday he's made it on his own  on a whim and wild impulse after acing his mid–terms and deciding he deserved a bit of celebration—— quentin wandered into seventh veil, a club filled with people looking for a good time and beautiful women. normally that wasn't his scene. the guys practically had to drag him with them. mostly because he detested how men conducted themselves around exotic dancers. quentin saw it as an art form and one he could find appreciation for. but men who got too handsy or made disparaging remarks got under his skin. maybe this is why his father treated him like an outcast; he wasn't a piece of shit. but that night he saw a blonde introduced as angel and his heart stopped for a moment. even now, he couldn't tell you what was so different about her next to the rest of the women upon first impression, but god did she ever leave one.he'd never been so enamored by someone in his life. but as she'd made her way over to give him a lap dance, he couldn't help but have a breath hitch in his throat. a racing pulse and dropped jaw followed. do you believe in love at first sight? quentin crane did, and was he ever head over heels watching her walk away, too timid to do anything else.it was hard to fall back into life as he knew it after that night. he wished he'd had the balls to ask for her number. then again, maybe that wasn't a great idea. he should've been focused on school, not daydreams of a woman who had no idea he existed. could he be blamed, though? a life of neglect and trauma combined with an odd personality and strange interests didn't exactly prepare him for much in love. he'd had a few one night stands since arriving in los angeles, but he'd never felt the metaphorical butterflies rattling off is ribcage like angel caused. xi. you taste too good to be true  one day while working at the video store by himself, lost in reading material for his courses, the bell above the door jingled. figuring it was one of the regulars who didn't much care for small talk, he remained silent. the only thing to cause his gaze to divert was the sound of heels on the store's hardwood floor. to his surprise, wandering down an aisle of tapes was the very woman he still struggled to push aside in his mind. closing his book and taking a breath, he approached with caution. don't seem too eager. act cool. yeah, that would be a cold day in hell that quentin crane learned to act cool. he cleared his throat and asked if he could be of any assistance. that spelled the beginning of the end of lonely days.she came into the store often. sometimes she even hung around solely to keep him company if none of the quartet of friends he had were around. he'd never mind nor object to it. weekends especially became days they would converse and learn more about the other. angel never looked at him like others did. even when he made awkward small talk in the beginning, she made him feel comfortable. the awkwardness faded with time and when he would give entire presentations about a new slasher flick or classic horror, she never once made him feel bad. in fact, she contributed to the conversation. she enjoyed the genre just as much as he did. xii. safe in my arms you will lay  after spending two years getting to know one another, in the fall of 1983, quentin was sure this was the girl for him. he wished he could get up the courage to ask her to be something more, but his thoughts were always the same. what would be special enough about you for her to want you like that? so he allowed his anxiety to keep him from speaking up. he pushed it to the back of his mind and let things stay as they were.the day he brought his guitar in was the day everything changed. he knew the store would be dead, as it usually was in the middle of the week during the day. opting to work on some music and set his studies aside, he was caught off guard by angel entering the store and seeing him play. playing guitar wasn't something he shared with others. in fact, he kept it hidden as a coping mechanism when times were rough. but as his face flushed red in embarrassment, she told him how great he was. the humble pie he ate wouldn't allow him to agree, but he appreciated the sentiment. that's when she began to express her dream of becoming a serious musician and not stay just a video vixen forever. she wanted to be taken seriously.it was decided then that he couldn't let her slip away, couldn't let her fall through his fingers. i'll make you a deal, he'd spoke, a small smile spread. i'll teach you to play, but you have to do something for me. be my girl. he remembers saying, though it was a question really and not a requirement. one he desperately wanted her to agree to. this was the only phrasing and situation he could think of that sounded natural rather than awkward, falling from his lips. and to his surprise that's exactly what she did. xiii. on the cringe of society's where we lie  maybe it wasn't a mistake to re–start life after all, he thought. by the summer of 1984, he'd graduated from california state with his bachelor of arts in psychology and prepared to apply for the masters program in the fall. all seemed right within his new world. he still worked full–time at slashback, but now he was the manager. teenagers working summer jobs never stuck around, most people who came in as his co–workers never lasted. this job was temporary to them. no one thought it was cool to work at a video rental store. vinny eventually became a regular employee, but no where near as dedicated to the store as quen.but with the slasher and horror genre picking up thanks to john carpenter, wes craven, and of course—— sean s. cunningham's iconic vision that brought our favorite goalie to life—— the store owners knew they needed someone they could count on to manage the store permanently. cue the psych major with an insatiable hunger for knowledge of horror films. quentin felt like it was an honor. he'd always secretly seen slashback as his baby, on the payroll from the first day the doors opened. now it was definitely cemented in fact. plus, it was quite special to him in terms of allowing him to settle into complacency with his life finally going right, for once. oh, was he ever wrong. xiv. you meant more than i could ever want  one of the happiest days of his life by far was learning he'd been accepted into the masters program. one day he'd have a legitimate practice. that was the goal. he wanted to help others. he wanted to specialize in children with a history of abuse. it was a way of coping, by helping someone with help he wasn't offered during his own childhood. he knew it would be a long journey, but his hard–work, will, and determination would get him there. he was sure of it.the night that everything went terribly wrong, however , was the night of his 30th birthday—— october 13th, 1984. his phone rang while he and angel watched friday the 13th, part 4. he gave her a peck on the cheek and jumped up from the sofa to get the phone. it was his nan—— she'd aged, her voice told the story of a long, plentiful life. but her words weren't so kind on his ears, nor his heart. it's your mother, quen. she passed. while it was easier to learn of his mother's passing from someone who meant so much to him, even to the old him, it still felt like his heart had shattered into a million pieces. nan also relayed that if he wanted to attend the services, he wouldn't need to worry about his father. the man that treated him so horribly had passed 4 years prior. he told nan it was probably best if he didn’t, but made sure she understood how appreciative he was to have her call him and that he loved her so very much.the phone call was a bittersweet one. the obvious tragedy in losing his mother hit the hardest. but knowing she was able to live happily without franklin for 4 years gave him some peace of mind. but now he was faced with the task of explaining to angel why his whole demeanor changed with one phone call. why he was crying, why he was extremely visibly upset. it was time to tell her who he really was, what he really left behind, and how the one parent who ever loved him was now gone. xv. i built this city on ashes to rise above  opening up to angel following the phone call was more difficult than he'd ever expected. as someone who always wore their heart on their sleeve and never shied from being vulnerable, it was strange to feel like telling her was a risk, like he had to keep this bottled inside or potentially lose her for not being upfront from the start. and truth be told, coming clean felt like a spiritual awakening. each tear shed was a painful memory he no longer had to carry the burden of by himself. truthfully, he was glad he was forced—— more or less—— to share his harrowing past.the days that moved forward were hard, excruciatingly hard. but each one became easier and easier. just as he'd always done, the man woke to plaster a brave face upon features that could've easily crumbled beneath the weight of it all. he went back to class per usual, went to work like he always had, kept living as though nothing was wrong. quentin made it through the first year of his masters program, but he could've never done it without angel at his side. things didn't work out for himself and angel as a couple, quentin couldn't seem to keep his head in their relationship after the loss of his mother. he felt it wasn't fair to keep her wrapped in his poorly bandaged wounds. they still support each other, they still remain best friends.now into the year 1985, he continued to sit behind the counter at slashback while every jock in a five mile radius heckled his interest in the genre as they always had, all while it's too tempting to psychoanalyze their own issues. he usually waited until the store was empty and vinny left for the day before playing the guitar with his best friend beside him. he works his ass off to get as far with his schooling as possible. he's made a city out of ashes and feelings of despair, and he likes to think through the memorialized tattoo on his left forearm, his mom is always watching, always with a proud smile on her face for the son who could've turned so cold but chose to emanate warmth and light instead. xvi. in calculated silence captivated by the violence  things seemed to turn around until september 13th, 1985. the last week of summer camp just up the road and into the mountains spelled the fate of several high schoolers who acted as counselors. they were all brutally butchered with either a machete or an axe. quentin recalled seeing the story on the news and watching closely for updates. this was something right out of a friday the 13th film. it didn't seem real and quen chalked it up to his slasher brain warp.things became even weirder when a string of sex workers bodies were found scalped. sure, it wasn't an unusual crime, especially for that part of town, but quentin remained invested and closely watched. it sounded like the 1980 film maniac in his eyes. but, again, he wrote it off. about a week after that, teenagers living on elm street in town started dropping like flies, all attacked with what looked like razors. the pattern of their wounds was described as having a clean slice in four cuts at a time and once more, his brain lingered on the a nightmare on elm street series.it wasn't enough for him to act and stop ignoring the severity of the situation until several of his classmates came up missing, eventually found with body parts used to make a human jigsaw puzzle. the news was clueless, but quen recognized the similarities to the 1982 film pieces. enough was enough and he made his way down to the police station to try and explain his thoughts that all of these slayings were connected by their recreations to popular slasher films. they dismissed him and laughed. even his friends wouldn't believe him. he felt helpless as carnage continued. xvii. let the knife leave its mark  the phone rang loudly one night, waking him from his slumber. it was nora, telling him that while she was babysitting for a neighbor, someone broke into the house in a michael myers costume and attempted to kill her. she was okay despite being stabbed in the shoulder. her basic med knowledge as a nursing student helped her, and the kids she was looking after were fine as well without injuries. but she was at the police station and asked if he would come down—— they were all starting to believe him now.quentin expressed that it concerned him with how close this was becoming. it was as though each killing was attempting to get his attention. first it was kids he didn't know, then women he'd never met, but then classmates he was vaguely familiar with, now one of his best friends. each murder was modeled after slasher films within the last decade. his friends testified to police that if anyone knew this much about that rot, as the officers called it, it was quen. initially they looked at him as a suspect, but once cleared they wanted his help.bitter that his friend's life in danger is what it took for law enforcement to acknowledge him, he still wanted no more bloodshed. a call came in to the station, asking for quen personally. a raspy, near feral voice (think billy lenz, black christmas, 1974) told him to go to a rundown motel outside town. police agreed to let him go with supervision from afar in an attempt to catch the killer. no one was prepared for what would happen.upon arrival, he realized for familiar the motel looked to the film that inspired his love of the genre: alfred hitchcock's psycho, made in 1960. he knew where he was supposed to go. room number one's door was slightly ajar, the room marion crane stayed in and was killed in. taking a breath, quen headed in, heart nearly stopping at the sight he found in the bathroom. a blonde in her thirties stabbed at least fifty times, slumped over the edge of the tub. and from behind the bathroom door stepped the killer. it was an all familiar face.albeit older now, his only living brother, matthias held a blood soaked knife in his hand. hello, elias. expecting someone else? the surreal sight had him welling with tears and seething with anger at the same time. he told matty that wasn't his name anymore and demanded answers.

your horror freak mind and incompetency to do the one thing you had to do as the oldest brings us here. after you vanished off the face of the earth, dad pushed me to the breaking point. someone had to take over and of course i was the only one left. well, i killed dad too. someone had to put that bastard out of his misery, right? quentin couldn't believe what he was hearing. his baby brother not only committed the atrocities plaguing the area for weeks, but also murdered their father. then came more words from matthias. i thought it would be... fitting, that where you ruined teddy and i's lives with your obsessions and desperate need to be different, be where i end your own life. you can't just leave town and start a new life. you can't escape responsibility for the lives you destroyed. not that easily. no.quentin attempted to stop his brother, who made a mad dash for him with the knife in the air. it came down with fervor and sliced the right side of quentin's throat as the door busted open and one shot took matthias down. luckily the cut wasn't deep enough to cut his jugular or any other crucial vein. emts patched him well enough to go to the hospital as his brother was taken out in a body bag as well as the woman. the bloodshed was over, but the post–traumatic stress and survivor's guilt over the ordeal was just beginning. xviii. friends in high places  from that point forward, it was becoming increasingly harder to wake up with a smile and positive outlook. he'd already endured so much and the freshly formed scar tissue along the right side of his neck served as a constant reminder of his only living brother's spiral and death. he was the last delecroix. nan and pop were both gone, mom and dad, teddy... and now matty. for a brief period of time, quen fell into a depression and contemplated throwing in the towel with his masters, but the friends he'd come to form such a deep bond with wouldn't let him. vinny and nora specifically cited that he'd come too far to stop now and that all the kids he's supposed to help in the future need him. it was enough to kick his ass into gear and slowly but surely he pulled through.in the spring of 1987, quentin graduated with his masters and it wasn't long before he was applying for his psyd with an emphasis on psychodynamic child clinical skills & application at the reis–davis graduate school–––– which would be accepted and he would begin classes in late 1987. by this time vinny also published his first novel, a collection of short horror stories. quentin couldn't have been prouder of the man he had the pleasure of calling his best friend. nora was also advancing in nursing school, noah in law school, and wes was going places with his professional basketball career. things finally were swung in their favor and all of them deserved it equally. he couldn't have asked for a better group of people to call friends. xix. the guilt i carried this far  after four and a half long years, quentin finally had his psyd and big dreams. he graduated top of his class in spring 1992. it was around this time that the owner of slashback, who had come to hold so much trust in quentin, passed away and left the store in to quen in his will. while he was obviously upset with his long–time boss's passing, he felt glad and honored robert trusted him. with that, he made vinny assistant manager and hired some new staff with the surge in popularity carrying them into the early 90s. quentin also began working at a local clinic for psychiatry, called the barclay center. he was the only person there who particularly specialized in adolescence psychology. this meant there was a small influx of new patients. it was everything quentin craved when he decided this is what he would do with his life.in just two short years, quen made his dream come true. he still dealt with the after–effects of everything he'd been through, but in 1994 at 40 years–old, quen finally opened his own psychiatric clinic with a fellow psychologist he met at the barclay center named imelda vasquez. together they've brought both adult (melda) and adolescent (quen) psychiatry and psychology to the forefront of los angeles in a time where mental health is still relatively taboo. quentin is so thankful for everything he has and he's shed the guilt he held for the people who died in his path at the hands of others or their own hands. he's shed the grief for the ones he's loved and desire to do go back and do better. quentin crane can without a doubt say he is exactly where he needs to be. and he can only go up from here… right?
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