*captured by royel, calabasas, california*

Prologue: The Landscape of Becoming

California breathes differently in summer. Not just a season, but a living entity that transforms everything it touches. Calabasas - a place where dreams collide, where suburban dreams meet wild possibilities, where boyhood becomes something more intricate than any simple narrative could capture.

Wyatt James Cooper stood at the intersection of everything and nothing. Thirteen years old. A universe contained in skin and bone and unspoken potential.

The Topography of Self

The meadow behind the Cooper family home was more than just land. It was a canvas. A confession. A prayer.

Wildflowers - pink cosmos, golden marigolds, delicate purple thistles - danced around him like living spirits. Each bloom a metaphor. Each movement a story of transformation.

His body was changing. Muscles beginning to define themselves. A landscape of becoming that defied simple description.

Part I: Familial Echoes

Grace Elizabeth Cooper watched from the kitchen window. Her son - her beautiful, complicated son - stood in the meadow like a modern-day prophet. She saw in him the complexity of generations.

Her own journey from Montgomery, Alabama, to this California promised land had been a migration of more than just geography. It was a migration of spirit. Of possibility.

The family Bible sat heavy on the side table. Leather-bound. Gold-edged. A document of faith that was simultaneously a constraint and a liberation.

Thomas Cooper - Silicon Valley executive, Southern transplant - understood complexity. His son was writing a new kind of narrative. One that didn’t fit into neat boxes. One that was beautifully, terrifyingly authentic.

Part II: The Ritual of Friendship

Mason Hollis represented something different. Not just a best friend, but a mirror. A co-conspirator in the grand adventure of becoming.

Their wrestling wasn’t just physical. It was a language. A conversation about masculinity that had no words. Only feeling.

When they grappled in the backyard, skin against skin, breath against breath, they were exploring boundaries. Not just of body, but of identity. Of what it means to be a boy becoming a man in a world that constantly demands definition.

The Dance of Vulnerability

Each touch was a question.
Each movement a response.
Not about winning.
About understanding.

Mason’s arm around Wyatt’s neck. Not to dominate. To connect. To say: I see you. Fully. Completely.

Part III: Spiritual Geographies

Youth Pastor Mike spoke about divine design. “God don’t make mistakes,” he’d say. But what about the spaces between? The moments of uncertainty? The beautiful, terrifying landscape of becoming?

Wyatt was learning that faith wasn’t about certainty. It was about embracing mystery.

Part IV: The Infinite Moment

As California light transformed everything it touched, Wyatt and Mason remained. Witnesses to their own becoming.

The meadow understood.
The wildflowers knew.
Some feelings can’t be explained.
They can only be felt.

Infinite.
Sacred.
Beautiful.

Epilogue: A Prayer of Becoming

The sun set over Calabasas. Pink and gold and infinite possibility.

And they felt everything.

by mitchell royel

Playtime Youth Presents: It’s a Feeling