CHAPTER 034: MAT

Opposed to Chris and Gideon, I lived in a simple house in Washington Heights. Sure, my place might be considered expensive, but it didn't measure up to those two's homes. I've never liked pomp and pageantry, having grown up in a mansion too big for a kid; it only ever felt empty. Some part of me wanted the opposite of what my father had, which this place definitely was. Another positive thing about this place: my father refused to step foot in it because it was below his standards.

My house was light and homey, with an open floor plan. There were personal touches to the rooms; art, books, a few plants, basically anything that held an interest to me. Father had all of those things too, but for him, they had been accessories and not something he actually enjoyed.

In my friend group, I was considered the least complicated person, in the sense that I didn't need much to be happy. If I got to feed my urges—dominating, had a roof over my head, food in my belly, and a job I loved—I was good.