Name: Milo McCorbin<br/>Age: 21<br/>Appearance: Tall and slender. His light brown hair is always neatly combed back. His dark brown eyes stand out slightly on his white skin.<br/><br/>Routines. Schedules. Rules. All of these things I grew up around. My parents told me that a well mannered man gets far in life. Indeed it will get you some places where a rude, obnoxious delinquent could never dream of going. I did not mind how my parents brought me up, I always assumed they knew what they were doing. Do I like who I've become for my parents? Yes.<br/><br/>These are the thoughts that went through Milo's head as he combed his hair back, looking into the mirror at a tall, thin man in a white button up shirt and black pants. He wore a tie, it was black with a pattern of little white dots. He glanced at the clock, 7:22. Breakfast was to be served at 7:30 every morning. But his mother was busy preparing herself for the day ahead and his father knew nothing of cooking or cleaning.  That is why they hired someone to do that for them. Below she was already preparing breakfast for the family. Milo had not yet gotten to know her, for she was just hired this year, after his parents abruptly fired the last one.  Milo's scheduled life left little room for being social, so he never saw much of the house keeper, except for meals.<br/><br/>7:27. Milo came out of his room and approached the staircase. His mother was already standing beside it, her shoulders back, chin raised slightly. His father approached and merely glanced at the two before starting down the stairs. His mother followed, and Milo descended the stairs last. They came into the dining room and took their seats. Milo's father was at the head of the table while Milo and his mother sat at the sides. They sat up straight with perfect posture, awaiting their meal. 7:29.