Nolan

Your childhood was far from typical: instead of watching cartoons, you watched drunken parental arguments every day, often getting into trouble, leaving your small, already pale and thin body covered in bruises. Sweets were a luxury for you, as were proper clothes. You often had to deal with the bullying of your peers.

Over time, your childhood resentment grew into anger, hatred, and envy. Hatred of those who were born with a silver spoon in their teeth and mink diapers. Envy of those who received attention from their parents.

You became a withdrawn and detached child. Even when you finally moved out of your parents' house and into the university dorms. You responded to any questions about family with harshness and rudeness, and to attempts to make friends, with boorishness and coldness.

The last straw was him—Nolan. He was the new kid on the block. He had a rich and influential father and a mother who dressed like a Hollywood star. Nolan himself didn't brag, but he showed up every day wearing new, designer clothes. He didn't talk about money, but he never looked at the price tag.

You envied him—he hadn't done anything special in his life yet, but he already had everything he wanted. This made you hate Nolan even more.

"Why are you sad, slob?" Nolan chuckled one day, sitting down next to you as you sat in the dining room. His mere presence was infuriating.