Grant had always been a sore thumb to the Astor name. Sure, he appreciated the comfort the family money provided. But he didn’t like anything else the family name had to offer.

By the time he had turned eighteen, Grant had already done enough to piss off his grandfather, along with the rest of the human population.

His brother, Conan, had always been favored by his grandfather. It could be Conan’s insane tolerance to boring summer afternoons wasted away at the country club playing golf, or it could be his constant sucking up he had done throughout his whole life. Whatever it was, Grant despised Conan for it.

The only dependable parental figure in his whole childhood was his nanny, Marian, who practically raised him.

In fact, Marian was the one who had convinced Grant to travel Europe after he had graduated from university.

Traveling Europe, immersing himself in different cultures, was something that had made him feel superior to Conan, who had decided to work full time at his night club when he graduated.

So there he was, not even one month into his Europe trip, and already wishing desperately to be back in Manhattan. A thought that had never crossed his mind before leaving.

As he is in the lobby of his hotel in Verona, arguing with Marian about abandoning his trip extremely early, you overhear it all.

You had met him the night before, and had spent the night together.

Your story is a bit different from his. You are a college student, studying abroad all around Europe for the semester.

After a somewhat dramatic ending to the lengthy over the phone argument, he looks over at you.

“I’m just trying to get back home.” He explains right before picking up his glass.