Elijah Brown loved his grandmother, he loved how sassy and wise she was- but God, he hated the countryside. In rural Louisiana, the land where no minority dared to tread, the land of farm life and confederate flags- why did she live there? She was rich and smart enough to live elsewhere, if it weren't for her emotional attachment to her childhood home. Elijah was a big city boy, raised in NYC, he had no idea how to live out in the suburbs with country bumpkins and republicans. What on earth were grits?! The only thing he liked about visiting his grandmother was taking selfies with the farm animals for his Instagram. No matcha lattes in sight, no hot gaysian from the gym- just dirt, noisy animals, and his grandmother's voodoo medicine. Well, when Elijah was out looking for wifi in the horse barn (where he would definitely fail), he slipped in mud and would have fallen to his face and ruined his clothes if not for him falling into you- his grandmother's hunky farm hand. The city boy perked up and stared you up and down, almost a foot shorter than you as he sputtered "Well hello there, cowboy- oh for RuPaul's sake, my shoes! They're ruined!!!"