DAMIANI, luka

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Luka M. Damiani

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The thing is about belonging to a big family is that when a person wants to be heard they must be as loud and as boisterous as the surrounding company lest your words fall to deaf ears. There are a number of methods to achieve this, such as a Mother who cries and faints at least three times at every get-together or the six year old niece that screams bloody murder at the drop of a pin. Or even the uncle that speaks with hands like windmills and spits while he talks or the newly graduated cousin that transfigures the six year olds lost tooth into a softball sized snail that’s later found in the pot of meatballs and gravy, much to everyone’s disgust. Or the older sister whose clothing seemed to shrink wrap smaller and smaller every year.

Then of course, there’s Luka.

Luka learned from an early age in the tiny cramped townhouse in the borough of the Bronx that his best bet at being noticed amongst a mass of cousins and siblings was to be the constant hum in the background like a broken no-maj air conditioner. Irritating enough to be acknowledged but often swatted away. The big kids only let the towheaded runt follow them around because, to put it simply, Luka was nuts and willing to do anything to appease their distinguished preteen tastes. This included stupid reckless behavior or downright disgusting feats- such as the time he actually took a hefty bite of the aforementioned snail found in the gravy and spewed his guts out for the next three days, or when he hocked a loogie in his Aunt Angela’s cosmopolitan and watched her drink it, resulting in a grounding for the rest of the century.

But above all else, Luka adored his older brother Vinny and would follow his beck and call like the most devoted of missionaries, and Luka’s brother guided the shrimp of a wizard as he waded his way through a difficult and often times frustrating childhood. He provided what was often the only comfort he could procure when his Mother, Father, and Sister grew too exasperated with his constant restlessness and lousy impulsive behavior. However, Luka’s parents were patient and supportive despite their sons penchant for trouble and provided the stability that was vital to his sense of worthiness and security. Needless to say, he had a great childhood sans the occasional screaming match with his sister or a painfully mended bone or two.

What was important is that Luka was loved. Cherished. Accepted even during the times that he was, as many children are, a borderline psychopathic asshole. Luka wasn’t psychotic or an asshole of course, but he had his fair share of struggles while most children maintained a naive innocence. There were in fact many of times where he would confide to his Mother or Brother that he didn’t know what was wrong with him, but he wanted to fix it so very badly.

This sense of stability paid off and as Luka entered his teenage years he began to shape into the gangly young man that refused to cut his hair and poured all his misdirected energy into violent mosh pits and fast guitar riffs. Like Vinny, he was sorted into Pukwudgie. In school he proved to be a proficient student with the aid of the occasional calming draught that redirected his focus long enough to finish a paper or two. Of course, there was still the frequent outset of brilliancy that Luka tended to to leave in an unfinished wake. Potions, bands, homework... all things that had momentum in their inception but he struggled to carry through. Despite being naturally gifted with magical competence, his grades suffered and Luka often found himself falling behind his peers.

But as he shot up to a striking 6’3 he blossomed also as a person. Whatever caused his tendency towards mischief dissipated, and so did his academic struggles. Armed with his gregarious disposition and a cultivated knack for getting noticed, he thrived socially despite his threatening pretense. In fact, Luka proved to be no more than an overgrown goofy ass sunflower that, while he tried his best to seem menacing- specifically, around Vinny and his other heavy metal kinspeople- infamy just wasn’t in his blood. His stalk was bent and his petals flopped around and it’s just kind of hard to take a sunflower seriously to begin with, abnormalities aside. Especially one that couldn’t quite keep a straight face no matter how hard he tried.

Geniality and genuinety suited Luka well, however, and during his teenage years he fell deeply in love with a classmate. In fact, their relationship was durable, lasting until their graduation. Towards the end of the year they promised to one another to keep it together despite going their separate ways. Luka had been accepted to a hospital under an apprentice healer in his hometown. It was a welcomed overture. He lacked the desire to leave home and spread his wings, finding comfort in the familial atmosphere and cozy urban streets of his borough. In The Bronx, Luka knew everyone like they were his own family, from the mailwoman to the greengrocer, and he had missed its grimy streets in such a way that one could miss a lover. The connection to his hometown was more meaningful than he could put into words, and for that he was eager to return.

But the same could not be said for his lover, who left to full-fill their otherworldly desires. For awhile they wrote each other, each and every day, but as time passed their hearts grew farther rather than fonder. Eventually, the letters stopped coming, and Luka experienced his first heartbreak.

It weighed on him heavily for much of his early adult life. Following the path of many young men before him, Luka decidedly drowned his misery in shitty beer and inconsequential sex. At the time he saw no end to his grieving, though perhaps he had been just a tad bit dramatic. Luka was by no means the first to experience heartbreak, but when he loved he had done it with every inch of his being. As many do with their first loves, Luka had lost himself in this other person, and without them he wasn’t sure who he was.

Naturally it was time that proved to be the best healer, but Luka found distractions as the minutes slid past. He worked over time and bonded with his patients. He took care of his Mother and Father and spoiled them rotten. He took his younger cousins to museums and zoos. He volunteered at shelters on his weekends and found meaning through altruism. Eventually, even, he gave his heart away again, this time to a 6 year old mainecoon that had been badly neglected for several years. Her name was Luna, and for awhile, she brought an uncomplicated light to his life that had been missing. She gave him purpose and that was something Luka absolutely needed.

Despite all this, one would think Luka would have wised up, but when Vinny died it shook him to his core like he had never experienced dejection, but this time it was different. Even at twenty-five he cried like a blubbering baby into his Mother’s arms. Vincenzo had been not only his brother but his best friend, and the months following he frequently found himself wondering why he hadn’t done anything. Why he had never realized that Vinny had been in much worse shape than Luka could have ever imagined. He had always been an accomplished potioneer, even as teenagers. Vinny had been the one to provide Luka with calming draughts when everything weighed too heavily upon his shoulders. He had a cure for everything. Vinny could fix the world with his enchanted phials. It had never occurred to Luka the reason why he had been so proficient in his abilities until he day he poisoned himself in his constant effort to find his own bottled happiness.

It was hard for Luka not to blame himself, as Vinny’s self-proclaimed closest friend and brother.



Likes| his beautiful furbaby luna, skanky high top sneakers, fast riffs, being soaked from head to toe in sweat, fishnets, his job even though it bums him out sometimes he finds being a healer to be incredibly fulfilling, going for really long walks and shooting shit the entire time, talking to people he doesn't know, but that's kind of tough because Luka knows everyone, metal yowls, his mommas cooking, a nice sloppy greasefest slice of pizza is great too, no-maj subway because he just can't wrap his head around how it works despite having lived in the city his entire life, cheap beer, parades and festivals, ART even though it makes him feel really uncultured, donating, deep conditioning, band tees, the internet which he also can't really figure out, drunk foot races, 24/7 diners, jukeboxes!!!!!!!!, making out with strangers, halloween, staying up all night even if he has work early in the morning he's a GLUTTON for punishment

Dislikes| being told to cut his hair, fuck you old man etc etc, hitting his head on low-hanging lamps or door frames, being told to smile when he doesn't feel like it because he usually smiles all the time anyway, just not for photographs, getting in fights, seeing the homeless- it breaks his heart, when people hate cats, salads, it's not sauce it's gravy, being alone even for two seconds because Luka requires constant entertainment, suits, robes, basically anything other than jeans and a teeshirt, rejection that he tends to take harder than your average joe, caffeine