Simon Wilcock, heir of the Wilcock estate, stood at the doors of his family's manor, welcoming guests in his golden, beaked mask. Not real gold, of course. [i]You'd think that because my family was so rich, that they'd be a bit less stingy. Nope.[/i] He looked across the threshold, remembering the conversation he had with his father an hour ago. 

"[color=f7941d]Remember son, you are our prized possesion.[/color]" His father reminded him, stern. "[color=00a651]Possession?[/color]" Simon asked, eyebrow raised. His father glared at him. "[color=f7941d]Focus! Now go get ready for the party, boy.[/color]" [i]Of course, he doesn't see me as his actual son, does he? Just a useless little child.[/i] Simon clenched his fist. Of course he didn't. He saw him as an asset. A piece of his grand scheme.

Simon sighed. Maybe tonight could be fun. He might even meet a girl. For now, he had to welcome everyone older than him. "[color=00a651]Just a bit longer, and I can go inside.[/color]"