"Parents make us unhappy sometimes," he says, with all the ennui of a person who hasn't breathed through their nose in a week. One hand escapes the press of his chin to fit around the mug, just absorbing the heat of it for now. "Usually because young people are stupid and pick dangerous things to make them happy, and it's our parents' jobs to make sure we live long enough to know why we were stupid."

If he's going to be either of them, it's his mother, and he'd spent too long thinking he wouldn't grow up into anything at all to mind that. "I think every person with parents has felt like they'll be more--something, than them. More fun, more successful, less ignorant." He looks down at his mug. "Better at tea."