Jolar

Mitchell
"You'll never amount to anything."
I'm tired of hearing my grandmother's voice in my head. I'm ready to put her to rest, where she belongs. She might have raised me after my father went to work on the oil rigs and left me behind, but she sure never loved me. I'm ready to prove her wrong. 
I might be chubby, dyslexic, and gay, but I know I'm ready to leave all the negativity of the past behind. I'm going to get my nursing degree and then build a family of my own. I'm ignoring my dead grandmother's voice and forcing my feet to go into the Mylos Scholarship Lottery building to grab my piece of the pie.

Jolar
When I get the call that my match has been found, I'm excited—my adopted son, Neal, not so much.
"What if he hates me?" he asks me, his six-year-old face filled with anxiety. 
I know this is impossible. My mate could only be a perfect match if he were also perfect for the young that would be ours. But Neal is afraid, having been told by his last terrible excuse of a parent that he was unlovable.
"You know I love you to the ends of the universe and beyond, right?" I ask Neal.
"But you're Mylos and maybe only Mylos like me."
My heart breaks, knowing there is nothing for it. We must go down to the surface and meet my mate together. Today is the day our family grows. Love must win. Correction–love will win.