He cries at night when the stress and the expectations become too much. He doesn't bother to muffle his cries. It's not like his parents would care enough to check on him.

So there he is, curled up in a ball in the corner. He is clutching his favorite stuffed toy. A little soot ball from Spirited Away.

He doesn't even know why he's crying. Today wasn't particularly hard. All he had to do was smile to classmates, give a little advice to the Council, and make preparations for the Hamilton internship.

"Do you even know how hard I worked so you can have all these things? Your iPad, mac Air, iPhone 6. I bought these all for you, and you can't even give me back anything. YOU GOT A B! Maybe I should send you home if you're going to bring back failing grades. The Philippines will whip you into shape."

He just forgot to turn in one packet and the teacher doesn't accept anything late. He had left it at the house because he had overslept and rushed around that morning. He hadn't slept any more than 2 hours that whole week. He was just so tired, but he's Ace. He's got to keep up appearances even if it means that he pulls three all-nighters in a row just so that he'll get an A on the next English project.

People think he's perfect. That he has all this raw talent. They don't know that's he's dying just to his dad happy. They don't know that he's thought about drowning himself in the tub so that for once in his life, he would be weightless. It's better this way. He thinks. All this pain, all this stress, all this isolation. It makes him better. He wouldn't be where he is if it weren't for his parents. If only if were good enough for them.or them./span/p