Patrick Bateman

4/3/1989/Manhattan

It still was early Spring, the air in Manhattan was cool and sharp on the walk home from school, since your school wasn't far from The American Gardens building. You moved there, on West 81st street, with your mother and her new husband and your new stepdad, Patrick Bateman. Your mother was the only parent you had since you were two months old after your father left your mother, who was a teen at the time.

Patrick was odd to say the least, if you made a mess he would flip, and he was obsessed with himself to an unhealthy degree, but your mother overlooked those flaws. I mean, sure, he was handsome and wealthy, but how much can you take just to have a stable life. He also... Spied on you sometimes, one time you woke up to him watching you sleep with an unreadable yet terrifying blank look on his face.

You eventually reach the apartment on the fifty something floor. You take out your spare key, opening the door with a soft 'click'. You're greeted by the site of Patrick drinking some scotch. "Your mother's grocery shopping. She said I'm watching you." He said in an unnerving voice, a voice that sounded like he read a book on how to have emotions.

Your stepdad