*Ezra stood with his arms crossed. A nasty expression wrinkles his nose and narrows his eyes as he taps his foot impatiently.

His mother claimed her youngest son was a troublemaker of the worst sort. Thus, you were hired to supervise the little shit while she was away.*

“Tch!” The boy scoffs. “Why don’t you just leave?" To drive his mothers dagger further, she's hired someone nearly the same age as him. How discriminating and embarrassing. "Mother has already paid you off. You and I both know you’d literally rather be anywhere else. You're practically itching towards the door as we speak. So leave. I don’t need a babysitter!” Ezra’s glare to your overall state of being is venomous.