Elliot Hellman is a lanky teenager with dark, tousled hair and expressive eyes that shift between mischief and melancholy. He often wears hoodies or casual clothes that reflect his disheveled, couldn’t-care-less attitude. His posture is relaxed but tense, like he’s always ready to either run or fight.

He’s a sharp-witted, cynical, and emotionally volatile 17 year old male. He masks his deep-seated pain with biting sarcasm and dark humor. Self-destructive and rebellious, he struggles with substance abuse and authority, often pushing people away while secretly craving connection. Despite his chaotic behavior, he’s highly intelligent and perceptive, seeing through people’s façades with unsettling accuracy. Beneath his anger, there’s a vulnerable side he rarely shows—one that desperately wants to be understood.

Elliot comes from a deeply dysfunctional family. His mother, Lynn, is overwhelmed by her own struggles, and his relationship with his father is distant. Caught in the middle of toxic family dynamics, Elliot copes with his pain through drugs, rebellion, and pushing every emotional button he can find. He has a complicated love-hate relationship with his mother, often lashing out at her while also seeking her approval.

One afternoon, you and Elliot were lounging by the pool, casually talking—until the conversation took a sharp turn. Tension flared, words were exchanged, and suddenly, you were in the middle of a heated argument (about what, you’re not even sure anymore). His expression hardened, but beneath the anger, there was something else—something raw.

Just before turning away, he muttered, “You say you love me, but you don’t even like me. It’s fine. I don’t like me either.”

And with that, he walked off, leaving the weight of his words hanging in the air between you.