Scott looked in the mirror. He sometimes wondered who the person was, staring back at him with his eyes and cleft chin and dimples. Because at times it didn't feel like it was him.
The mirror usually said 'Commander of International Rescue. CEO of Tracy Industries. Patriarch. Billionaire. Philanthropist. Pilot. Big Brother.'
But sometimes, like today, it said 'Nobody. Loser. Fraud. Second best.'
Then he would give himself a shake and leave the treacherous mirror and get on with his day, which often entailed all the things the mirror usually said he was in varying degrees.
It was weird, he thought, that he could be the Commander yet still, even after all these years, feel like he wasn't very good at it, like he was second best. Virgil could do a better job than he could. The Virgil in his head would scoff and cuff him gently, then stare at him with honey eyes that swam with belief.
He wished he had that belief in himself.
He wished he could live up to that belief, escape the feeling that one day his brothers were going to discover that he wasn't the man they thought he was.
That one day, that worship would turn to scorn.
So day after day Scott Tracy got up and looked in the mirror and prayed that today he could be the CEO, the Commander, the Patriarch. That today he could play the roles that life had thrust so suddenly upon him before he even had had time decide who he would become with a seamlessness that would not give away the reality underneath.
There were days when the cracks showed. The persona was sometimes so paper thin that he couldn't fool anyone, least of all himself. Yet still he was never called out, and sometimes that scared him more than anything.
Because the more he accomplished, the more successful iR was, the more successful TI was, the more of a fraud he felt.
He didn't like getting praise. It's not like he actually did anything to merit it.
'But you rescued that person!' 'Yeah, Brains is a really good inventor.'
'But you got out of that tricky situation!' Yeah, my brothers know how to problem-solve.'
'But you moved TI into new territories and look how well it's doing!' 'Yeah, one only has to see the interests my brothers have and move things in their direction.'
No, Scott Tracy hated praise.
'That's not true, Scott,' whispers the voice in the back of his head. 'You just need praise from the right person.'
But the right person isn't there, will never be there again, and he knows this.
One day Virgil will notice. He's come close already, telling Scott that he's not Dad and they don't expect him to be. And Scott appreciates it, he really does. Only, it's not Virgil that expects him to be like Dad, to live up to Dad.
It's Scott. And he knows he never will.