EJ's dad's office in the central building was twice as big as his office back at home, complete with its own bar, restroom, and...was that a treadmill? EJ couldn't help but wonder how much time he spent here, constantly looking for new ways to cut costs and increase productivity in his various ventures.

His dad got out a square-shaped, crystal bottle of what looked like scotch from the bar, pouring himself a drink in one of the small crystal glasses.

"Care for a drink?" His dad asked.

What was this, a James Bond movie?

"I'm underage," EJ pointed out aptly. Not that that had really stopped him before—at camp, the counselors had found Dewey's stash of margarita mix and had ended up doing drunk karaoke, but that wasn't important. Not to mention, any alcohol that wasn't sugary and strawberry flavored had to taste terrible, especially his dad's old scotch collection.

"Come on, EJ, you think I don't know that? Grow up," his dad said with a soft laugh.

"I'm driving later." EJ continued with a pointed look. "Very soon, actually."

His dad returned his pointed look, then said: "Sit down."

EJ thought, reluctantly, that this might go a little bit better if he didn't defy every little thing his dad had said. He sat, keeping his posture tall and straight.

"It's a wonder you've turned out the way you have," EJ's dad shook his head, hands held behind his back. "Maybe it was myself or my mother that spoiled you too much, made you so entitled."

"If only you were there to do the spoiling," EJ shot back.

His dad, other than letting out an exhasperated sigh, ignored him. "If I were your age, I'd be over the moon if my dad had given me a full ride to a school even more prestgious and meaningful than Duke. I just don't understand why you're throwing this opportunity away."

"I'm not," EJ started. "I just--"

"Look," EJ's dad cut him off. "You can hate me. If that's what you want, I can give you the world, and you can act like it's nothing. But I'll be damned if I let you walk away--if I can just get you through school, you will be so much more appreciative of me. You're used to a certain lifestyle, EJ--new cars and five star steaks--and ramen noodles in some tiny dorm back in Utah is not going to satisfy that lifestyle. Hell, I'd give it a week!"

"That lifestyle was just something you put in front of me to distract me from the fact that you weren't there!" EJ burst out. "And when you were, you had nothing nice to say, you just spewed out some business-oriented condesending bullshit!"

"Elton, language!" EJ's dad scolded. "I don't appreciate being spoken to that way. I have given some very sound advice over the years, and if you'd just open your mind..." he sighed and took a sip of his drink, shaking his head. "What do you even want to go to school for, anyway? What does that...University of Utah have that this school does not?"

EJ hesitated, trying to swallow his anger, but all that came up was shame. He'd tried for years to share his interests with his father--there were a few things, like water polo, but for the most part, his dad was quick to dismiss his interests. To laugh at them.

"Directing," EJ said finally, hating how weak his voice sounded. "I want to be a director--I want to make things, like movies or broadway shows. And there's nothing here even remotely close to that."

"Directing," EJ's dad scoffed, shaking his head. "I knew I shouldn't have let you do theatre--I shouldn't have let your mother send you off to that camp. But no matter--there's management classes here. You can do that, learn some good leadership skills--"

"No," EJ protested, "That's not nearly the same. I want to go to a school that will actually have what I need--with people that actually support me."

"And are you supporting those people right now?" EJ's dad countered, nodding towards the door, where Ricky and Gina were sitting outside.

EJ paused. So this is how he'd trap him, by trapping his friends. He should have thought about that--he should have never brought them here.

"They wouldn't be happy here," he countered, eyes stinging at the thought of his girlfriend and boyfriend in those lifeless uniforms, giving presentations on supply chain productivity. "This school would drain every last bit of their personality until they're cogs in the machine...just like you want."

"Now that's just not true," EJ's dad lied, shaking his head like EJ were a toddler that had just spilled his Cheerios. "I could give them sucess, and you could take it away, just like that. I could give them, say, a twenty percent off deal on tuition--if they worked in the cafeteria, that is. I've heard work-based learning builds character...not that I would ever work in the service industry, of course..."

"You know they couldn't afford the tuition even with that, you...you classist..." EJ bit his tongue, trying to keep his cool. "You'd be plunging them into debt for this scam of a school, with no real guarantee of sucess outside of some vague connections. They can make the decision on their own, but I'm possitive they'd avoid anything having to do with this place."

EJ felt a seed of doubt despite the determination in his words. He was mostly sure they wouldn't fall for the siren's call, but how could he really be confident? He saw their expressions--Ricky looking at that computer lab, itching to get his hands on that cutting-edge technology, and Gina's look of longing when envisioning her dance studio. Maybe it would be better for them here...

"Fine," His dad shrugged, taking one last sip of his drink and placing the empty glass on the table. "In all honestly, I don't think your low-life friends are a good influence on you, EJ. You're all a bunch of theatre kids in this bubble of hope, convincing each other your dreams can come true--"

"There's nothing wrong with my friends," EJ countered, hands gripping the handles of his seat until his knuckles were white. "They do well in school--" (he didn't need to bring up Ricky's GPA, really). "They're nice, and fun, and...they're good people. They get me."

"They...get...you," EJ's dad drawled, his every word making EJ's face flush with embarassment--he must have sounded so stupid. "Yeah, okay. Rich, in his little cat button-up? He seems the type to be living in mom's basement at thirty, eating Bagel Bites and playing video games. And Gina...well, I think we both know what happens to pretty girls that want to be dancers."

EJ stood up at that, knocking his chair over. "You...you fucking asshole!"

"Elton John Caswell, language!"

"Would you rather I throw a punch?" EJ asked. "Because I would..." he balled up his fist, trying to imagine what it'd feel like, the gratification of it all. His intrusive thoughts ran rampant like wildfire--he could pick up the chair, or the glass, or, or...

He remembered when he first told Val about his intrusive thoughts--she'd always had an interest in psychology, and she was always open to help him. She never judged him.

EJ tried to get control over his breathing, just like Gina had showed him earlier. He knew the method, of course, but it had been so much better with her. His anger could easily slip into panic, and he'd be down on the floor. His dad would win.

"You know what, dad?" EJ said softly, opening up his hand with a deep breath. "You're the low-life...and you're not even worth it. You don't deserve anything from me."

"Jesus, EJ..." EJ's dad stood, stunned. "Maybe we shouldn't have taken you out of therapy. There's something deeply wrong with you."

EJ studied him curiously, then. He didn't even seem to realize the full extent of what he'd said.

"What?" EJ managed.

"When you were a kid, and we found out your aunt and uncle put you in therapy behind me and your mother's back. We took you out--we didn't want to tell you, we didn't want you having some meltdown--so we just took you to these events for a little while until it all died down." EJ's dad explained. "I thought you knew, but really...you ought to go back. I'll get you signed up with a counselor and get it covered along with tuition here."

EJ couldn't help but smile--honestly, what the hell else was he supposed to do?

"You're delusional," EJ said softly. "And I'm sick of running my life around what you want, always worried about what you'd prefer. You've had your miserable life, and now I want mine. The Caswell line--its traditions, at least--dies with me. You can have any of my stuff that you paid for, fine, but I never want to speak to you again."

He turned to leave, hand on the doorknob, before his dad called: "EJ, wait. You're not thinking this through--"

His voice was so soft, it almost sounded sincere. But then, EJ remembered: in all that time EJ was acting like a perfect Caswell in the hopes that his dad would be nice to him, his dad would only show that kindness a fraction of the time. That's all it was: acting kind to get what he wanted. And that would be ending today.

EJ opened the door and closed it, with surprising gentleness, behind him.

"Let's go," EJ said, and almost immediately, Ricky and Gina jumped up to follow.

"I gotta say, I'm relieved to be getting out of here," Ricky replied, walking even quicker than EJ.

"How did it go?" Gina asked. "What did he say?"

"It went about as well as you'd expect." EJ said, "And I don't care about anything he has to say, now or ever again. I cut myself off--for good. I'm not putting up with his shit anymore."

His voice faltered. He wasn't going to cry. He wasn't.

He couldn't guarantee himself that, though.

Ricky slipped his hand in EJ's on his right, Gina on his left--despite the nervous sweat, which must have meant they really liked him after all.

"Good," Gina smiled, sweet and loving, in a way that could always calm EJ down no matter what. "Let's go home."

He could guarntee, even after all this, that Gina and Ricky would be by his side through anything.