Malcolm furrowed his brow, his blue eyes staring over the bright sunlight of the school's courtyard. He frowned as he observed the always rich and mostly spoiled teenagers mill about between classes. It was true, of course, that Malcolm's family was quite (notoriously) rich, but a part of him had always resented that. His father had always expected him to grow up to be some lawyer or doctor - to live the life of a boy born with a silver spoon in his mouth. And yet, that same father had resented him for having not made himself from the ground up...despite Malcolm's best efforts.<br/><br/>The handsome young man sighed and brushed a strand of mahogany hair away. It was pointless to dwell on such things, as Malcolm had given up hope of impressing his father after the debacle that had ended with his exile to this school. Malcolm crossed the courtyard and sat on a bench in the shade of a large tree, setting his bookbag down beside him and frowning. This was one of his usual spots to set up shop, and Malcolm expected business would be booming with the new school year beginning.