Since Chéri was barely an adult, they believed themselves to possess all the knowledge in the world and obviously hated it when somebody didn’t share their opinion. But also, they were used to it. They fixed their hair and blinked at Tristan.

“No? Haven’t you thought of me I needed to be in school or somewhere where I wouldn’t be a “poor unfortunate”? Or that I do not understan my choices, victim of somebody stronger, older?” Chéri was all these things. But they refused to believe it. Somebody who believed all these things could hardly muster the strength to survive. Chéri had heard them before, many times, from people that didn’t actually care about them. And as they always did with words coming from uncaring people, they boxed them into the “lies” section of their brain. They didn’t, however, talk in an unkind tone. In fact, they stayed a little distant, as if Tristan’s opinion was none of their business.