That is, until tragedy struck. Philly was a good kid. Smart. Mostly on the straight and narrow. Marty, on the other hand, was something else. He ran with gangs based out of the projects nearby. While he wasn't grooming Philly to be the same, the kid looked up to his older brother and his best friend Lou. Philly liked Lou; for every minute Marty spent talking about how badass he was and how much money he was going to pull from his thug life, Lou spent two minutes telling Philly to hit the books and keep his nose clean. Marty had gotten into fights all the time, but one day he never came home. Somehow, the kid messed with the wrong person, and a single gunshot to Marty's chest did him in.

Losing their adopted son was too much for Nora and Edwin to bear. Edwin turned to drinking. Nora checked out emotionally. It was a matter of a few miserable months before Nora decide to take Philip away from Edwin, Lou, Boston, and the pain of loss and heartache. In theory, anyway. Nothing could really do that. Edwin didn't follow as she packed up her old blue Pontiac Bonneville and headed west, eventually ending up in Clovis, in California's San Joaquin Valley.

It was clear to his teachers in Clovis that Philip was a prodigious intellect, whose thirst for knowledge had been largely ignored by his educators in Boston. He was prone to bouts of frustration, which would lead to anger and acting out. In the new, positive learning environment Clovis had to offer, he flourished. Philly thrived in learning new things, particularly in the sciences. He took advantage of arts programs to learn to play the piano, and paint. His mom met another man, and while she wasn’t looking to get married again, she was happy. That was good enough.

Puberty kicked off one hell of a growth spurt, and he started playing football in high school. By the time he graduated high school he was an NFF National High School Scholar-Athlete Award winner, had been scouted by a number of Division I football teams, and had found a profound interest in genetics. Philip had wrestled with existential questions about why he differed so much from everyone else in his mother's family photos (he sorted out infidelity on his own, since his mother never copped to it), and marveled at the amazing biodiversity of the human species. The building blocks of evolution and how it mutated and changed in response to stimuli was absolutely fascinating.

Of all the schools that offered him packages of scholastic and athletic scholarships, he decided on UC Berkeley. While it wasn’t the strongest football school interested in his services, it was definitely the one with the most robust academic offerings for genetics and cellular biology. At Berkeley, he had some challenges fitting in. He was far too focused on academics for the "ball is life" football crowd, and the academics dismissed him as a meathead because of his wild appearance and physique.

During his four years at Berkeley, one thing became crystal clear to Philip: football was not going to be his life. Sure, the possibility for riches and fame were there, but that was never something he strove for. But he had read eye-opening studies into Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy. He wanted to make a real difference in people's lives and to apply his intellect for the betterment of humanity. Permanent brain damage was a very real possibility, and continuing to play football just wasn't worth it. So he opted out of the NFL draft, much to the chagrin to a number of scouts and agents that had come calling.

He dove head first into academics. He had his choice of schools after earning his bachelor's in genetics, genomics, and development (GGD). He opted for Stanford University. Without the distraction and grueling schedule he had to keep because of his football commitments, he was free to delve into study and research. Philip had friends and girlfriends, but never any serious relationships. He was far too independent and far too focused on the books, and nobody wanted to come second.

Most of Philip's twenties were spent in school. Schools. At Stanford, he earned dual masters in genetics and biomedical engineering. In 2006, he returned to Boston to begin Harvard University's Biological and Biomedical Sciences (BBS) PhD program. His thesis research focused on a better understanding of deploying hematopoietic stem cells to better understand and potentially slow the cellular aging process.

After earning his PhD, his first job was an epidemiologist with the Massachusetts Department of Public Health. Philip was drawn to the idea of working with the school system and youth population in order to improve the city's overall health. He established a number of connections with public and private entities. In 2012, he began playing with a jazz band. Soon thereafter, he met a sultry singer that would become one of his best friends. His creative side was being satisfied, but as the months went by, he grew increasingly frustrated with bureaucracy and counter-productive processes. Halfway into his third year of employment, an argument with his superior that began simply enough escalated to angry yelling and physical separation being necessary.

The incident was troubling for his employer, but even more for him. After taking some time off for reflection, and meeting with a therapist to talk through some anger issues, Philip decided to tender his resignation. He decided to tak some time to focus on creative endeavors. He focused on his music, and on painting. After a year long hiatus, he decided to seek out work once again. He was soon inundated with job offers, and after a considerable bake-off accepted an offer from Eisai's Human Genetics and Pharmacogenomics department.

Philip's experience with Eisai had basically been the opposite of what he'd experience in the public sector. The focus was on the bottom line, by any means necessary. And while he had never been asked to do anything ethically questionable, he feared it was just a matter of time. So he decided to resign his position in the Autumn of 2017 and strike out on his own. His calling was helping people, and he decided that he would focus on building an organization to inspire Boston's youth in the study of the sciences.

And then there was the matter of Hank McCoy. The X-Man had been locked away in Phil's body, and over the course of a few months, the duo had drawn strength from each other. They were alike, and their assimilation had been nearly effortless compared to others. With the veil between them now lifted, he still feels he has only just started scratching the surface of what it all means. Nevertheless, he charges ahead to face the challenges this new reality presents, as well as to realize the good that Phil and Hank may do together. And he's comforted that he is not alone. He's found that many of his good friends are on the same journey, and has been enraptured by a woman... women... who has already charted her journey through the veil.