Something twisted inside him and he made a sound like spitting up concrete.

He gripped the jacket, too tight, in his left hand.

Fuck.

Chapter Two

Theo told himself he never doubted that this was where he was meant to be, even though he could remember a time when all he wanted was to be anywhere but here.

That little boy who had wanted—

He shrugged. He was too old for dreams.

Father had gone to Gwynns and started dating Mother here, and all of his childhood friends were going—of course they were. And it was just the way it was, for his circle and his parents’, old families which grew up together and lived well together and ruled the city together, and there was no question of the money.

Theo never thought about money at all.

Unless he was noticing who didn’t have any.

And then he was merciless.

First day in the dorms, and Theo was fully arranged, with the best of everything, and he was going door to door as the unofficial welcome and fuck-you committee. The building smelled like fresh pencil shavings and lined paper and too many clashing perfumes; it was a heady smell, the beginning of things. Fourteen years old, away from home, a monitored independence.

Tom followed him with his significant bulk the way he had since they were children, and his other childhood friends were comfortable in their rooms. Genni had waved him off, perfecting her eyeliner and gossiping with her roommate, and Phillippe was already dug in to one of their textbooks, classical music playing on his stereo, the geek. But Theo—he was unsettled. Restless.

Theo wasn’t nervous—not exactly—but he wanted everyone to know who he was and that he would always be at the top of the pile. Most of the other students saw, immediately, that it was Theo they’d need to compete with—and that they would never really measure up.

There were certain...expectations which came with being a Beaumont. His father made that clear in the car on their way to Gwynns, and he had made it clear his whole life. And his mother’s entire elegant existence was the manifestation of these expectations; she played her role as a Beaumont perfectly. She could charm an entire ballroom with a glance and she was beautifully, stunningly silent when his father...

Well. Theo knew he needed to be like them, to earn the best grades and make lucrative connections; he was valuable as long as he proved—

He thought that, if he were enough like his father, powerful and respected and a tiny bit feared, his mother might take more notice of him. And his father might leave him al—

Might be proud enough to let him breathe.