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. You'd think that because my family was so rich, that they'd be a bit less stingy. Nope. He looked across the threshold, remembering the conversation he had with his father an hour ago.
"Remember son, you are our prized possesion." His father reminded him, stern. "Possession?" Simon asked, eyebrow raised. His father glared at him. "Focus! Now go get ready for the party, boy." Of course, he doesn't see me as his actual son, does he? Just a useless little child. 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. "Just a bit longer, and I can go inside."