"Damien.
Be honest.
Does this make me look like an arrogant prick?"
I stared at the mirror, turning slightly to check the side view of my black formal coat.
Golden lines ran down the sleeves like veins, the embroidery too much for my taste, but apparently "fashionable" in the Central State.
Well, that was what Damien told me—
His voice echoed deep inside my head, bored as always. "You are an arrogant prick, Noah. The coat's just being accurate."
I groaned, ripping the suit off and tossing it onto the growing pile on the bed.
"I'm not doing this to look rich," I muttered, grabbing another outfit.
"It's a team outing.
My treat.
I just…I don't want to look like some Central State snob."
"But you are a Central State snob, remember? The heir of one of the Seven Commandment Families, remember?
It's basically printed on your forehead at this point—"
"That's the problem," I muttered.
