Eridan Ampora sniffed indignantly as he arrived outside of the dormitories, leaning against the Rolls Royce that had brought him to this wretched place. God, what was he doing here, of all places. He simply didn't belong in this place; it was so...common. He didn't deign to look at his father as he came out of the car and walked to Eridan's side.
"What I don't understand, Dad, is why the fuck am I stuck in these glubbin' halls rather than in an apartment?" he asked, upper lip wrinkling in disgust as he saw some young men in Hollister walking buy. Seriously. What did they think they were wearing? Young academics at one of the most prestigious schools in New England, and all they could do is dress for a day at the beach? Madening. What had the world come to.
"I know you have distaste for the common masses," his father said slowly, surveying a small group of giggling co-eds with a small grin, "and that is why I felt that perhaps you should stay here for a bit. You can learn to understand their ways. Something of a science experiement, if you will."
"I still see no reason to have to deal with this filthy government-funded garbage possibly sharing a room with me. Why, I can practically smell the fuckin' Sallie Mae loans on the lot of them..."
"Eridan Orphaner Ampora, quit your whining," his father snapped, and Eridan's mouth shut. The icy glare combined with the two raised scars on the man's face made him look all the more menacing, and Eridan found himself fiddling nervously with his designer sleeves. "It ain't manly of you. If you're to be the heir of my name, you best learn to handle what life throws at you."
"Yes sir."
"You aren't going to be some pampered pet at home forever."
"Yes sir."
"If you can manage the challenge of living with your peers, you can certainly run an empire where you employ them." His father smiled again, ruffling Eridan's hair much to the boy's chagrin; it had taken him the better part of an hour to perfectly sculpt the purple and black locks. He chuckled when he pulled his hand away to see the boy's distraught expression.
The driver of the car then presented Eridan with the two overly large Louis Vuitton suitcases, and the boy arched an eyebrow over thick-rimmed glasses.
"Am I to assume that I'm not getting assistance with my bags?"
"Sorry, son," his father said, flipping a hand dismissively, "I'm afraid I have a meeting I have to run over to, and simply cannot offer the valet for any longer to assist you." He patted the boy on the back before opening the door to the still-running car. "Have a good year at school, make yourself worthy of the Ampora family name and whatnot. Call the estate and I'll be sure to get back to you."
And with that, the car was off, blowing a cloud of dust onto the mildly-dishevelled, confused-looking young man.
This figured. Here he was, practically a Venderbilt, and yet abandoned pitifully by a man who obviously didn't give a shit among the lowerclasses with narry a servant to carry his bags for him.
Being a rich kid and growing up.
It's hard and nobody understands.