Darius stared at the doctor like he was an idiot. "What do I have to lose? Everything. My friend died because he rolled around with the wrong person. My father breaks my mom's heart because he can't keep his pants on. My brother died because he thought life was cheap and someone agreed with him. But even worse than my life, someone could separate me from my family, and more importantly- their money. I don't have the skills nor desire to live like the poor do. I don't even have the skills to be rich." Except I should be wealthy on my paintings but people have no idea of quality. "I don't have the charm and wittiness, nor the desire, to go after some old rich widow for their fortunes. I have this room and this family's money. If I lose that, I'll die. There will be nothing worth living for." He said simply, whether or not he knew if it could be true, but it made sense. The very idea of living in a place outside of the comfort of his room where they were currently, seemed uncomfortable and forbidden. "What else is there?"