You were their good deed.

At least, Ilya thought you were.

They believed to have made your life a breather, free from nuances of society and the misfits of your constant everyday struggle against the oppression against your very being.

In a world full of socialites and the need to change course's history, you changed theirs in a span of months now as they stared at you in a crowded room full of party goers, in the very ball of the academy.