[ This time, his pace comes to an abrupt stop at those unexpected words, breath hitching softly in his throat. A throat that suddenly feels tight and a little too choked off. He swallows around it, and then gives a little laugh, trying to brush it off. ]

What’s not to like?

[ But it falls hollow even to his ears. An answer more befitting the person he’d always pretended to be, forced himself into to survive back home. He stares at the ground, shoving his hands a little deeper in his pockets. ]

Maybe it wasn’t all pretend.

[ When does the mask you wear become more real than the face you’re trying to hide? When everyone forgets what you looked like without it? When they actually believe it’s the real thing, and forget there was ever another face beneath it?

He shrugs, looking uncomfortable for a moment. ]

Or maybe this one’s the pretend one. Trying to be a person outside of my Crest… that would have been a fairy tale back home. I still… don’t even know who this person is.

[ But he spent far less time here drowning in shame, in resentment and bitterness for a cage he couldn’t slip free of. Crushed under expectations he could never meet and ambitions he never wanted to fulfill.

He gives another low laugh, strained and resigned. ] It still sounds pretty terrible of me though, right? Not wanting them here because I’m still afraid of how they’d see me. Or if they wouldn’t see anything different at all.