They wanted me to be that kind of person—the kind who could get away with anything.
And once I figured that out, I started leaning into it hard.
Why wouldn't I? Everyone was practically begging me to act like I was above them.
I started picking fights for the fun of it. Arguing with tutors, backtalking my parents, blowing off responsibilities just to see how far I could push things.
And every time I did, they'd just shake their heads, shrug, and move on. Like nothing I did could really touch me. Like I was some force of nature they had to put up with.
That was when I really understood the power I had, the weight of the name I carried.
I remember Ava's birthday party one year.
Big, fancy affair, tons of lights and decorations, enough food to feed the entire sector for a day.
We were sitting in her giant garden under some ridiculous ice sculpture, and she was laughing about something stupid that bastard had said.
