Bro, Mick Jagger called. He wants his pie back
This is my flatmate Jackson, the first person I really made friends with when I moved to Wellington. We bonded over some vomit (not ours) in the first weeks of university, and the rest is a history that has spanned five years, two flats where we’ve lived together, many excellent parties, countless hours of being geeky about media studies, hundreds of cups of tea, and all seven seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. He’s also the person I’d stick close to in a zombie-related emergency.
These days Jackson lives and breathes theater down at BATS, but still finds time to rock some sweet headgear.